Je N'ai Pas De Mots
by Ammie Hawk
Summary: In an act of desperation, Harry Potter claims he has a fiancé to get Ginny off his back. To dash any hopes she has, he grabs the first guy he sees and hopes he plays along.
1. Chapter 1

Je N'ai Pas Des Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers or Harry Potter, just like playing in the sandbox.

AN: So here's the fourth day of Christmas Present… How time flies. Anyway, I know, I know, it's another new fic… this one though, is actually looking to be a shorter fic than most of my others, but we'll see. Anyway, on with the show.

Summary: In an act of desperation, Harry Potter claims he has a fiancé to get Ginny off his back. To dash any hopes she has, he grabs the first guy he sees and hopes he plays along.

Prologue

In a top office of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in Washington D.C., a lone dark haired figure sat typing away on one of the many computer terminals. Usually there were about a dozen other people in the room with him, but half of them were on early vacations, and the rest were out to lunch. He never understood why everyone in the accounting department tried to flout the one major rule S.H.I.E.L.D. had: no office was to be left unattended at any point during the business day.

He smirked wryly at his screen as he realized he was the only one in his department who actually followed the rules. Anyone who knew him in his youth would've scoffed at the idea, especially some of his teachers. His expression sobered at the thought, but it had been eight years since he'd been in school, and life moved on, and so had he.

Bright green eyes darted to his watch, trying to distract himself. His colleagues should be back in five minutes, then he could get himself something to eat. He rubbed his eyes as he turned back to the screen, his contacts were bugging him again.

His ears perked a bit as he heard the soft mechanical whoosh of the door opening. Thank god.

"It's about time," he called over, starting to gather his things.

"Harry James Potter," a female voice he wished he would never hear in this building, ever, said from behind him, "what are you doing here?"

"It's Black now, you know I changed my name," he sighed heavily. "And I work here, Ginny. The better question is, what are you doing here?"

"I'm on assignment," she straightened her shoulders happily. "I work for the Muggle Liaison Office now, and they sent me here to check things out."

"Right," he rolled his eyes, she was way too predictable. "Let me guess, you 'recommended' that they should check S.H.I.E.L.D. out, and 'naturally' you were the best one for the job since it was your idea."

"You make it sound like this is a bad thing," she pouted. "I figured, since I'm here, we could spend some time together before we head home for the holidays. I'm supposed to be leaving tomorrow, but I'm sure I could convince my superiors to extend my stay. You know, we haven't spent that much time together since Hogwarts."

"Did it ever occur to you," he dragged her out into the hallway as the first of his colleagues began trickling into the room, "that I don't want to spend time with you? I've told you numerous times over the past five years, I'm seeing someone else."

"You keep saying that," she folded her arms over her chest and began tapping her foot impatiently, "but you never say anything about this supposed girlfriend of yours except that you have one. I'm beginning to think you're just playing hard to get."

"You know what," he ran his hand agitatedly through his shoulder length hair as his eyes landed on a figure coming down the hall, "I'm not. In fact," praying desperately for a hail mary pass he turned her around, "I'd like you to meet my fiancé."

Green eyes locked with the blue of the stranger. He'd thought it was one of his coworkers, but he'd never seen this guy before. That didn't stop him, however, from silently pleading with him to go along with this charade.

888888

Natasha Romanoff, the infamous Black Widow, made her way down to the training facility in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, looking for her best friend. She was just about to punch in her code, when the door slid open, revealing the person she was looking for, followed almost immediately by two other members of the Avengers.

"Hey, Nat, what's up?" Clint Barton asked curiously.

"Nothing," she shrugged. "Just came to see if you wanted to get some lunch."

"Sure, why not?" the archer shrugged, and glanced at the other two, "You guys hungry?"

"I could eat," Steve Rogers, Captain America, nodded.

"By all means, lead the way," Thor motioned them onward.

The four of them made their way to the facilities cafeteria. They each got their food and went over to a table in the back.

"So," the only female said after a few minutes, "have any of you been up to accounting recently?"

"No," Steve and Thor shook their heads.

"Why would we go and see the math nerds?" Clint scoffed. "All they talk about is how their numbers don't add up, or complain about cleanup costs."

"Not all of them," the redhead shook her head. "Anyway, there have been some discrepancies recently in paychecks, as you should recall, Clint, so I've been up there quite a bit recently."

"Okay…" the archer prodded. "But that got fixed, Fury said so."

"Would you let me finish?" she glared at her best friend. "There's this guy up there. I've never seen him before, so I think he's new. Let me tell you, boys, he's pretty hot."

"Should he be working if he is ill?" the Asgardian frowned.

"No, no, no," she sighed. "He's not sick. He's fine."

"That is good," the long haired blond nodded. "You mortals are such fragile creatures."

"What Nat means," Clint chuckled, "is that she finds him attractive. So, you thinking about asking him out?"

"I don't know if I could, or should," she shook her head.

"Wait," Steve interrupted, "you don't strike me as the type to be shy."

"She's not," the archer was trying and failing to control his laughter, "but Nat here has a type. And she usually scares them away if she comes on too strong. Let me guess, he's older with short hair, obviously a nerd if he works in accounting, and wears glasses?"

"No, genius," brown eyes rolled in annoyance. "He's younger with long black hair, and he doesn't wear glasses. In fact, his eyes are the most amazing green ever. I mean, Loki green not Hulk green."

"Are you sure it's not Loki?" Clint sobered immediately, remembering his last encounter with the crazy Asgardian.

"Fear not," Thor shook his head, "my brother is safely imprisoned on Asgard. He will not be returning to Midgard anytime soon."

"That's good," he nodded. "Anyway, my curiosity has been peaked, what say we go check this guy out, see if he's good enough for our Nat?"

"I'm game," Steve agreed readily. "I'm curious to see what kind of guys she's into, considering she keeps trying to set me up with every female within a hundred mile radius of here."

"By all means," the God of Thunder nodded. "We should see this man, and see if he is worthy of our female companion."

"Guys, that's…" she growled as her phone began ringing.

She answered it and listened to the person on the other end, making noises of agreement. After a moment, she ended the call and placed the device back in her pocket.

"I have to go," she glared at her best friend. "Don't you dare go up there."

He held up his hands in surrender. The three men watched as she got up and made her way out of the cafeteria. Once he was sure she was safely away, Clint turned to the others.

"So you guys coming or what?"

"Did you not just give your word that you would not go up there?" Thor's brow rose incredulously.

"I didn't promise shit," the archer scoffed. "Now, I'm going up to accounting. You guys can come along if you want."

With that, he pushed to his feet and made his way to the door. The two remaining Avengers shared a look before hastily following after him, their curiosity overriding their fear of retribution. They caught up with the archer as he waited for the elevator. As one, they entered the elevator and began their ascent to accounting. They were two floors away when the lift stopped. The door opened to reveal the direction of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury.

"Rogers, Thor, glad I caught you," he said by way of greeting. "Mind if I have a word?"

"Of course," Steve nodded, and slightly disappointed, the pair of them left the elevator.

Barton watched them go, before reaching out and closing the door. A moment later, he reached the appropriate floor. He got off the elevator and made his way over to the office used by the accounting department. As he approached, he saw two people talking in the hallway.

"You keep saying that," the redheaded female was saying, "but you never say anything about this supposed girlfriend of yours except that you have one. I'm beginning to think you're just playing hard to get."

"You know what, I'm not. In fact," green eyes locked with his own, silently pleading for his help, as he turned the girl around, "I'd like you to meet my fiancé."

Well, that was an interesting play, but who was he to turn down someone in need, he was an Avenger after all. He gave the guy a subtle nod before putting on his most charming smile and extending his hand.

"Clint Barton. It's nice to meet you."

* * *

Ammie: So there it is... I know I start so many new fics, but I have to go where the muses take me. As for the title it's French and it means There Are No Words. Anyway, let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: I hate being sick….

AN: On the eighth day of Christmas, I offer you more Clint/Harry goodness. So here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

"Clint Barton. It's nice to meet you."

Harry almost sagged with relief at the other's answer. He tried to convey his gratitude through his eyes. However, he couldn't dwell on that for long, as Ginny was already starting to stir from her initial shock.

"Clint," he shook his head, "I-I'd like you to meet Ginny. You remember me telling you about her, right?"

"Yeah, right," the blue gaze shifted from the raven to the redhead, sizing her up with a single glance. "Your high school sweetheart, wasn't she?"

"Only in her dreams, maybe," green eyes rolled in annoyance.

"You know I'm only teasing," the blond chuckled slightly. "Anyway, thought I'd stop by and see if you wanted to grab some lunch."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "I was just about to anyway, but would definitely love the company. Anyway, I'll, uh, catch you later, Ginny."

"But, Harry," she caught his arm as he tried to move around her, "I thought we could catch up while I was here. I told you I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Ginny," he sighed exasperatedly, "I will be at your house for two weeks, we can catch up then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lunch."

Clint took this as his cue and stepped forward. He wrapped his arms around the slightly shorter male and rested his chin on his shoulder, giving the female a calculated look. He felt Harry stiffen slightly in the embrace, but he quickly forced himself to relax against his chest. Oh, he couldn't wait to tell Nat about this one.

"Look, Ginny," he finally said, "I don't know you, and quite frankly first impression's not that great. But, as it stands, I don't get to spend much time with Ry here, he works too much, ya know, and I'm cutting work just to be here right now. So run along, before you find out how much of a jealous boyfriend I can be."

With a final glare at the pair of them, she turned and flounced away. Harry relaxed fully and made to step away from the archer. Clint, however, held him in place for a moment longer.

"If you really want to pull this ruse of yours off," he whispered quietly in the raven's ear, "then you have to see it through. She's not gone, she stopped just around the corner. So, treat me to lunch and I'll consider it fair payment for using me as your fake fiancé."

"Fine," Harry nodded, it was only fair after all. "Shall we go then?"

"Yeah," Clint finally released him, only to drape one arm around his shoulders.

They made their way down the hall in silence. Harry wasn't sure what to say to this man who was acting as his savior. Once they reached the relative safety of the elevator, the wizard hastily stepped away from the archer. He leaned as casually as he could manage against the glass wall and took a good look at the other.

The sad thing was, if the circumstances had been different, he could actually see himself falling for this guy. He cut a fine figure, tall and all lean muscles that were accentuated by the rather tight clothing he wore. But the truth of the matter was he'd used this guy, and after today he'd probably never want to see him again. His cursed luck had struck again.

"So, Harry, is it?" Clint asked, leaning on the adjacent wall.

"Yeah, uh, Harry Black," he shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened back there. I-I panicked. But thanks for going along with it. That was really nice of you."

"Well, what can I say, I'm a nice guy," the archer smirked. "If you don't mind my asking, how do you know that girl anyway? I mean, you'd have to be pretty close if you're staying with her for two weeks."

"I'm not staying with her, per se," he ran a hand through his hair. "She's the little sister of my best friend, and their family kind of adopted me growing up because my parents died when I was a baby."

"I see," Clint nodded.

"Yeah, and on top of that, I kind of have a celebrity status back home, and she's been obsessed with me since before I met her when she was ten. Now, she's convinced that I'm going to marry her and make all her dreams come true."

"And your feelings have no consideration in the matter whatsoever?" a blond brow rose curiously.

"Exactly," Harry chuckled wryly.

"Well, that sounds like a convoluted mess," Clint shook his head. "I'm glad I could help you delay things a bit. Anyway, let's get some food and then I'll let you get back to it."

"Yeah, and thanks again for your help."

"Hell, I'm getting food out of it. So after you," he motioned Harry onward as the elevator doors opened.

888888

That evening, Clint made his way into Avengers Tower, where he currently lived with the other members of the team. When he reached the top floor, he found the other Avengers sitting around the common area, eating dinner. He dropped his gear in his room and made his way to the kitchen. As he grabbed a plate and began filling it, he could feel everyone's eyes on him.

"What?" he turned and leaned against the counter.

"So?" Steve asked. "Did you see him? Do you think he's worthy of our Natasha?"

"Before I answer that," he took a bite, he wasn't about to let their interrogation interrupt his dinner, "Nat, you wouldn't happen to know his name, would you?"

"Black, I believe," the only female of the group frowned slightly. "Harry Black."

"Okay," he nodded. "First off, I didn't make it to Accounting."

"Then why did you ask his name?" the redhead huffed.

"Would you let me finish?" blue eyes rolled in mild annoyance. "I didn't make it to Accounting because I was waylaid in the hallway by Harry Black. And he's pretty much how Nat described him. But on the downside, Nat doesn't stand a chance in hell with him."

"Why would you say that?" the other assassin pouted. "He's not taken. He doesn't have a ring, and from what everyone knows he's not seeing anybody."

"Naw, he's single," the archer took another bite. "You're just not his type."

Everyone gave him a mildly confused look. How could he possibly know this guy's type from one meeting?

"Wait," Tony Stark cut in, "he bats for the other team?"

At this revelation, the billionaire pulled a device from his pocket and began typing away at the screen.

"What team?" Thor asked, still confused. "Is there some competition going on that I did not know about?"

"No, Thor," Bruce Banner rubbed the bridge of his nose in mild exasperation. "It means that someone is physically attracted to someone of the same sex."

"Ah, I see," the Asgardian nodded. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, per se," Natasha sat back, folding her arms across her chest, clearly pouting. "It's just not overly accepted. And it means I have no chance with him."

"He's cute," Tony said, projecting the image from his phone so all of them could see. "I can see why you'd be interested, Nat. In fact, I think I might have to try my hand. What do you think, Bullseye?"

"I don't think he'd be interested in you either, Tony," the archer shook his head.

"You know," the captain frowned, "you just met this guy, how do you know all this about him?"

"Well," Clint smirked slightly, he had them all eating out of the palm of his hand, "after I had lunch with him, I dug up everything S.H.I.E.L.D. had on him, which isn't much, by the way. I think he changed his name."

"Wait, you had lunch with him?" Natasha asked incredulously. "You had lunch with us before you went up to accounting."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? I was helping the guy out."

"I feel like I'm missing something here," Tony shook his head. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"

"Okay," blue eyes rolled good naturedly. "Once I got up to Accounting, I saw a guy, who turned out to be Harry, and a girl arguing in the hallway. Next thing I knew, he was introducing me as his fiancé. Well, it was obvious he was desperate, and well, ya know, I'm an Avenger after all, so I can't just ignore someone in need, so naturally I played along."

"You didn't?" the redhead asked, scandalized.

"I did," he nodded. "Turns out the girl was his best friend's little sister and a bit of a stalker. Besides, what could it hurt? He said she was leaving tomorrow and if he ever sees me again, well, let's just say, he'd probably die of embarrassment."

"But that doesn't explain why he wouldn't be interested in me," the billionaire scowled.

"Well," Clint shook his head, "as I said, I think he changed his name. He mentioned that he was something of a celebrity back home, but I found nothing on a Harry Black. And unless he's related to the late Sirius Black, the former ex convict who was exonerated posthumously, I got nothing. And because of that, I just don't think he'd want the limelight that you attract."

"Whatever the case," Bruce sighed, "I think we should steer clear. We don't need to bring in someone else to our madness, especially one who obviously doesn't want to be. Besides, Fury would have our heads if he found out about any of this."

888888

Later that night, Harry sat on the couch of his small apartment just outside Washington D.C. reading while the television played quietly in the background. He looked up sharply as his wards alerted him to an incoming Floo call. With a sigh, he put his book down and looked over at the fireplace. He waved his wand, accepting the call. There were only a handful of people who had access to his Floo, and he rarely turned any of them away. He smiled as Mrs. Weasley's head appeared in the now green flames.

"Molly," he slipped off the couch so he could better speak with the redheaded woman, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this call? Everything's alright, isn't it?"

"Everything's fine," she smiled reassuringly. "I'm actually just calling to confirm a few things for next week."

"Okay," he nodded, because she couldn't have done this in the morning. "What can I help you with?"

"I just need to know when exactly you will be arriving."

"I'm not quite sure," he frowned slightly. "I know I'll be there on Wednesday, but I haven't decided on whether I'm taking a plane or going to try and acquire magical means."

"I see," a small scowl marred her features. "Well, do let me know when you decide. On that subject, will your fiancé be coming with you? We'd love to meet him, and you know he'll always be welcome here."

"I-I don't know," he said evenly, though his mind was racing a mile a minute. "I think he has to work, but I will definitely be sure to extend the invitation."

"Alright, dear," she smiled again. "Well, we'll see you soon. And we look forward to meeting this young man of yours."

Her head disappeared from the fire and the flames returned to their normal color.

Harry leaned back against the couch and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Why? Why did Ginny have to tell her mother about his foot in mouth blunder from earlier in the day? How did he end up in these situations? Why did he have to be so impulsive? God, now he had to fix this, one way or the other.

* * *

Ammie: Okay, so there it is, by popular demand... or more the muses demand... whatever. Anyway, I'm hoping that this one won't take me long to write, but it all depends on the muses. Anyway, please let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: I'm so late…

AN: So I was planning on having this up by the first, but I kinda got into a rut and didn't get anything really written. But better late than never, right? So here it is the next installment of Je N'ai Pas De Mots.

Chapter 2

The next few days seemed to go by so quickly, Harry couldn't believe it. He was actually starting to panic. He had never been nervous about seeing the Weasleys before, but this time was different. This time, everyone was expecting him to have a fiancé, and he didn't even have proof that he had one. He had no pictures, no ring, nothing. Granted, he could always buy a ring, and he'd thought about it, but the pictures, he couldn't fake, he wasn't tech savvy enough for that.

On top of that, he hadn't seen Clint since the encounter, which didn't bode well for him, considering he now had to pass him off as his fiancé to more people than just Ginny. Though to do that, he first needed to convince him to help. Of course, if he could find him, he could offer to pay for him to accompany him to England for two weeks.

Finally, the last day before his vacation was to begin, he went into the office, but his mind was not on work. As he booted up his computer, his coworker at the computer next to him leaned back in his chair and gave him a scrutinizing look.

"You here, Black, or are you already on vacation?" he asked after a moment.

"Hm?" green eyes glanced over vaguely.

"You really must be looking forward to your vacation," he chuckled. "You're usually the most dedicated out of all of us."

"What? No, actually, I'm not," Harry shook his head. "I kinda did something stupid and I have to find a way to fix it before I leave tomorrow or I'm in big trouble."

"You didn't get on the wrong side of Fury, did you?"

"Nothing like that," he sighed. "It's not work related, it's personal."

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" he offered. "Maybe I can help."

"Unless you can tell me where I can find Agent Barton," he chuckled ruefully, "I don't think there's anything you can do."

"Only in my dreams," the female at the station across from them cut in, having obviously been eavesdropping. "Agent Barton is one of the top five most eligible bachelors employed by S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Thanks," green eyes rolled in irritation. "Not really helpful."

"Well," his other coworker offered, "I don't know how helpful it'll be, but it's rumored that Agent Barton spends the mornings he's not on missions in the downstairs training room."

"Really?" Harry was out of his seat in an instant. "I've gotta go. Thanks."

"Where are you going? It's not like you can get in."

But it was too late. The rave haired man was already out the door and on his way to the elevator. When he reached the proper floor, he sprinted out of the elevator, expertly dodging people as he made his way to the state of the art training facility S.H.I.E.L.D. boasted. He paused outside the closed doors and caught his breath before looking directly into the retinal scanner.

It only took a moment for the doors to open. Once they had, he stepped inside and looked around. He was surprised that there were only three people present at the moment, especially since the facility was obviously built to accommodate at least a hundred. He almost sagged with relief when he recognized one of them as the person he was looking for.

Clint Barton was at the far end of the room, shooting a bow, of all things, at a slew of moving targets. Beside him was a redheaded woman with a handgun, who he vaguely recognized from somewhere but he wasn't quite sure. The third individual was in the opposite corner, beating the stuffing out of a punching bag.

"Clint!" he called, cutting across the room in the archer's direction.

Well, the good news was he got all of their attention. The bad news was there were now two weapons pointed directly at him. He barely managed to dodge to the side as an arrow went flying directly where his head had been.

"Look," he held up his hands, "I get that you probably never wanted to see me again after what happened, but was that really any reason to shoot me?"

"Harry?" blue eyes widened in surprise as he lowered his bow. "What are you doing here?"

"More importantly," the other male frowned, "how is he here? I thought Fury locked our training sessions."

"The scanner let me in," Harry shrugged. "Anyway, Clint, can I talk to you, in private, for a moment?"

"I'll go report this to Fury," the redhead shook her head. "If the scanners are malfunctioning, he'll want to know. Rogers, why don't you come with me?"

Rogers looked over at Barton, who gave him a noncommittal shrug. "Yeah, sure. Let's go, Nat."

The two of them left the training room, leaving Clint to talk to Harry. The raven haired man motioned to a bench off to the side of the room. They headed over and took a seat.

"So," Clint said, once they were seated, "what brings you here? I was sure, after our last encounter, you wouldn't want to see me again. And it has nothing to do with me, you seemed exceedingly embarrassed by it."

"It was an embarrassing situation," he shook his head, "and I should never have brought you into it, but I kinda need another favor, if you're willing."

"Can I hear what it is before I agree?" a blond brow rose curiously.

"Uh, yeah, of-of course," Harry chuckled nervously. "Well, you obviously remember Ginny, well, I told you I'm going to visit her family for the holidays. Well, she apparently told her mother about my fiancé, and they are kinda expecting him to come with me."

"So, you kinda need your fake fiancé back?" Clint forced himself to keep a straight face.

"Yeah," the raven scowled slightly. "And I understand its last minute, my plane leaves tomorrow morning, and I'd be taking you away from your family for the holidays, but I'll pay you for your inconvenience."

"You'd pay me?" the archer laughed. "I thought this was a favor?"

"I'm asking a lot of you," Harry sighed, "I want to compensate you somehow."

"Look, Harry," the blond sighed, "this is last minute, and unfortunately, I can't give you an answer right now. If I agree, I'm gonna have to get it approved by Fury, and he's gonna tear me a new one for it. So, here's what I'll do, if you give me your phone number, I'll see what I can do with Fur, and I'll give you a call tonight one way or the other."

"You know," the wizard shook his head, "that's more than I hoped for. I honestly didn't think I'd ever see you again. So, whatever you decide, thanks for hearing me out."

"You're welcome," Clint gave a half smile. "And ya know, I'm glad you did come and find me. Something tells me that knowing you will never be boring. Anyway, I should go talk to Fury, so I'll need your phone number and I'll call you later tonight."

Harry gave him his number and then took his leave, needing to get back to work. Clint watched him go before leaving and following after his teammates.

888888

Steve Rogers followed his female teammate from the training room and into the elevator. His mind was racing with the implications of what had just happened. How had a lowly accountant gotten into their training session? Fury had assured them that only level six agents or higher had access to the training room when any of the Avengers were present, after the first week of them utilizing the facilities and having almost every member of S.H.I.E.L.D. show up to watch. Not only had they risked getting injured, but no work had been getting done either.

"So," Natasha said once the elevator doors closed behind them, "what do you think Harry wants with Clint?"

"That's what's on your mind?" a blond brow rose incredulously.

"Well, yeah," she shook her head. "A cute guy comes looking for my best friend after completely embarrassing himself on their last meeting, who wouldn't be curious?"

"Only you, Nat," he scoffed.

"What?" she cocked her head to the side. "I'm a curious person by nature. And when it concerns my friends and colleagues I want to know."

"I think you should leave it alone," he shook his head. "It's Clint's business, not yours."

Before anything else could be said, the doors slid open and they exited the elevator. They made their way to the director's office and went inside, it was unlikely that Nick Fury didn't know they were coming.

"How can I help you, Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers?" the director asked once the door had closed behind them.

"We think there was a scanner malfunction in the training room," the redhead answered without any ado.

"Malfunction?" the one eye narrowed slightly as he hit a few buttons on his computer. "I don't see one."

"A member of the accounting department just interrupted our training session," Natasha said matter-of-factly.

"Name?" Fury frowned, bringing a new screen up on his computer.

"Black," Steve piped up. "Harry Black."

Fury typed the name in and a file popped up.

"Black, Harry J." he read aloud. "Accounting division. Joined S.H.I.E.L.D. five years ago. Access: Level Seven. How the fuck do we have a level seven in Accounting? And who the fuck made him a level seven?"

"You didn't?" Natasha's brow shot up in surprise.

"Hell no," he scoffed. "I wouldn't waste that talent in Accounting. What do you know about this guy?"

"Not much," the blond shook his head. "Barton did some checking when he first met him about a week ago. Other than that, nothing."

"Maybe we should ask Barton then," the one visible eye swiveled to the door as it opened, revealing the archer. "What do you say, Barton? What do you know about Black?"

"Not much," Clint shook his head, he should've known they'd be talking about this. "S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't have much on him, and all I've gotten from him is that he was orphaned when he was young and because of that was a bit of a celebrity. On that note, I'm pretty sure he changed his name, because there is no recorded evidence of a Harry Black in England during the time he was growing up."

"Do you think you can find out more from him personally, if given the opportunity?" Fury asked.

"It's possible," the archer shrugged. "If you give me the next two weeks, I'll find out whatever you want to know."

"Take whatever time you need," Fury nodded. "I don't care how you get it, but find out who he was, what he knows, and most importantly, who the fuck is K. Shacklebolt, and what gives him the authority to make one of my agents a level seven."

"Okay," he nodded. "In that case, I'm letting you know that I'm heading for England first thing in the morning. I'll send regular reports, and if you need me, you know how to reach me. On that note, I've got some packing to do."

With that, he turned and left the office. The other three shared a look before Natasha took off after him. She caught up with him just as the elevator arrived. She waited until they were safely inside before turning to her best friend.

"You agreed pretty quickly to that assignment," she pursed her lips as she regarded him. "Usually when it involves someone you know, you refuse and pass it on to me."

"I have my reasons," the blond shrugged.

"Come on, Clint," brown eyes rolled in annoyance, "I'm your best friend, and I know you better than that. Now tell me the truth, why are you so keen on taking this mission? And what did Harry want?"

"Look, Nat," he sighed, "I took the mission because I figured it would be easier than asking for two weeks off."

"Why would you need two weeks off?" she asked incredulously. "Especially over the holidays. You know Stark's planning a huge party and expects us all to be there."

"And that's not a good reason to want to be gone?" a blond brow rose curiously. "No, you're right. Harry asked for a favor that involves going to England for the next two weeks."

"This is so unfair," the redhead crossed her arms in an obvious pout. "I saw him first. And if it wasn't for me, you never would have met him."

"It's nothing personal, Nat," he moved to stand beside her and nudged her shoulder. "Besides, he doesn't really care about me, I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Anyway, I've gotta go home and pack. But listen, I need a favor, don't tell the others about this, just keep it between us."

"As if you need to ask," she smirked. "Don't worry, your little clandestine getaway with Harry Black goes no further than me. But when you get back, you have to tell me everything, every juicy detail, and I'll know if you leave anything out. Oh, and Clint," brown eyes held blue in a serious manner, "if you ever want to have a chance with him, you had better make sure he never finds out that you're spying on him."

"I know," he chuckled wryly as the elevator reached the ground floor.

888888

Later that Night

Harry moved through his apartment, hastily grabbing the things he would need for the coming weeks. He wasn't sure why he had put it off till the last minute, as he'd been planning this trip for a year now. Oh wait, he knew why, he was a master procrastinator when it came to things like this. It was always the same when he had to go back to school.

He had just finished piling his clothes into the suitcases and was headed to the bathroom for his toiletries when his phone began ringing. He followed the sound back to the living room and began frantically throwing things around, trying to find the elusive device before it stopped ringing. He found it buried on the couch under his suitcase.

"Hello?" he hit the talk button, hoping it hadn't switched over to voicemail.

~Harry?~ a voice he almost recognized asked, and he pulled the device away to check the caller I.D. only to find it was an unknown number.

"This is Harry. Who is this?"

~It's Clint,~ the other said.

"Oh, hi," he said, pleasantly surprised. "Sorry, I was packing, and I kinda forgot you'd be calling."

~It's okay,~ the archer chuckled. ~I meant to call earlier, but I was busy myself. Anyway, I got the time, so I can go.~

"That-that's great," the raven stuttered slightly. "So, uh, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."

~Yeah,~ Clint agreed. ~What time's the flight leave?~

"Oh, right," he shook his head, not that the other could see it. "It leaves at six."

~In the morning?~ the blond asked incredulously.

"I know, it's really early, and I'm sorry about that. I wasn't really planning on anyone being with me and I was just thinking about getting there as soon as possible."

~It's fine,~ he chuckled again. ~I'll be there. It's not that big of a deal. If I need to, I'll sleep on the plane. Anyway, I'll let you get back to your packing. I'll see you tomorrow.~

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Harry agreed. "And I'll fill you in on what you need to know during the trip."

~Sounds great. Till then.~

With that, the line went dead. Harry sat back on the couch, a smile ghosting across his face. It looked like luck was actually on his side this time. It looked like he was actually going to get away with this hair brained scheme of his.

* * *

Ammie: Okay, so there it is. Next chapter, we enter the Wizarding World... let's see how Clint handles it. Anyway, please let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: Still don't own

AN: Okay so this chapter pretty much wrote itself in two days. I was actually really proud of myself. I hope the muses will continue to play nice, but I make no promises. Anyway, on with the show.

Chapter 3

Harry arrived at the airport at four thirty the following morning, silently cursing himself for running late. Luckily for him, it didn't seem like many people were there and he managed to check his bags and make it through security and customs in half an hour. He didn't see Clint when he arrived, but as he had messaged him the details for his ticket the previous night, he assumed he was already waiting at the gate.

He almost sagged with relief when he finally arrived at the proper gate and saw the archer stretched out in one of the chairs in the waiting area, his long, thin carryon placed within easy reach in the seat beside him, as he apparently slept. Harry made his way over and took the empty seat on the blond's other side, hoping not to disturb him too much.

"You're running late," Clint didn't even open his eyes as he addressed his traveling companion.

"Uh, yeah," he started slightly. "It was hard to wake up this morning. If it hadn't been for my friend calling to ask what time she needed to pick us up, I probably would've been later."

"Well, it's good you weren't," the archer sat up. "They're going to start boarding soon."

"Good," the wizard nodded. "I hate waiting. So, anyway, do you want to start working out details now, or wait until we're on the plane?"

"I'd rather wait till after noon," he scoffed lightly, "but there's no real point in that, I'm not sleeping anyway."

"Okay," Harry couldn't say he disagreed with him on that point. "There are several things that we need to discuss here. One, we need to figure out how we met, cause if we don't get our stories straight now, they're gonna see right through us. Two, there's a few things you need to know about me and mine before we get there, but that will wait till we get on the plane. And three, we should probably get to know each other a bit better, at least detailed basics, just in case we're separated and interrogated."

"You know," Clint stretched languidly, "those are good points, but I think there's one minor detail you're missing."

"Oh, what's that?" green eyes turned to regard him curiously, and Clint realized, for the first time, that Harry was wearing glasses.

"We're supposed to be engaged," he shook off his confusion of the new addition for the moment, he could find out later, "yet neither one of us has a ring." He held up his unadorned left hand to emphasize his point.

"Right," Harry shook his head and picked up the knapsack he'd brought as his carryon.

Before he could open it, however, a voice announced that they were now boarding the first class passengers for their flight.

"Oh, that's us," he hastily shouldered his pack as he stood.

"That's just first class," the blond frowned, pulling out his boarding pass.

"Yeah, I heard," Harry said with slight incredulity. "Come on."

He made his way over to the door to the shoot, leaving Clint to follow in his wake. He handed his pass to the lady at the counter, who scanned it and wished him a good flight before motioning him through the door. At the door to the plane, he showed his ticket to the flight attendant, who directed him to his seat. He paused in the aisle and fished something out of his bag before stowing it in the overhead bin and taking his seat. A moment later, Clint joined him and stashed his case beneath the seat.

"So, as I was saying," green eyes studied the two small boxes in his hands before handing one to the archer, "I have suitable rings."

Clint stared at him for a moment before opening the box he'd been given. Inside, lying innocently in its velvet cushion, was a silver signet ring with a large black stone winking from its center."

"What kind of stone is that?" blue eyes narrowed as he pulled it out and read the miniscule writing around the stone: _Toujours Pur._

"It's a black diamond," Harry shrugged, pulling out the ring from his own box, a gold band with a single ruby. "And the inscription is the credo of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black," his tone turned mocking as he said the last bit. "It belonged to my godfather, who left it to me when he died."

"What about yours?" the archer asked curiously, as he put the ring on his finger.

"This belonged to my father's family," he answered simply. "Now that that's out of the way, how should we have met? I mean, aside from accidentally running into each other in the hall and me having a minor freak out and you being kind enough to play along."

"Well," Clint scratched his neck, "how long should we have been going out?"

"No more than a year, year and a half," Harry sighed. "Any longer than that and I would've introduced you already."

"Let's see," the blond frowned in thought, "we could've met during the Chitauri attack in New York. I could've saved your ass."

"They'd never go for that," the raven shook his head. "Though, if I saved your ass they'd believe it."

"They'd believe you saved me over the Avengers saving you?" the archer scoffed.

"The Avengers have nothing to do with this," Harry waved him off. "This is between you and me. Besides, they already know I was on the other side of Manhattan, helping MACUSA do damage control."

Blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he studied the other. Was this guy being serious? Did he really not know who Clint was?

"Yeah," he finally shook his head, "I just don't see you saving me. So, let's move away from the Chitauri attack."

Their conversation was interrupted as the plane prepared for takeoff. They half listened to the instructions the flight attendant was going over, both trying to come up with some way that wouldn't seem too farfetched for them to have met.

"I think I got it," Clint said, once the speeches were done. "We met after the Chitauri attack at the Triskelion, when you ran into me, spilling your coffee all over me."

"I don't drink coffee," Harry frowned. "And I'm not that clumsy."

"Everyone has their moments," the archer shrugged. "And it could've been tea, whatever, just some hot beverage."

"Hot chocolate," the wizard sighed.

"Fine, hot chocolate," the blond shook his head. "After that, I asked you out for drinks to make up for it. The rest is history."

"Sounds good enough," Harry shrugged. "Now," he glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them before subtly slipping his wand from his sleeve and muttering a quick _Muffliato_ , "we need a semblance of privacy for this part."

"What did you just do?" Clint scowled, having felt the faint surge of magic, and having a brief flashback to Loki.

"I'll explain," he ran a hand through raven tresses, "but this is highly secret. I shouldn't even be telling you because you're not really my fiancé, but for this ruse to work, you have to know. I am a wizard, and that was magic."

"Magic?" the archer started to panic, he really didn't like magic. "It had to be fucking magic, didn't it?" he threw his hands up in frustration.

"Clint, please calm down," Harry reached out and gripped his knee tightly, trying to anchor him. "Just because they can't hear us, doesn't mean they can't see us. And we really don't need undue attention."

"Right, sorry," he took a deep breath to calm himself, he was a professional after all. "I just really hate magic."

"Great," the wizard put his head in his hands. "This is never going to work then. Look, I'm sorry. I'll get your money as soon as we reach London and buy you a ticket home. I should never have asked you to do this in the first place. I can even make you forget this, if you want."

"No," Clint shook his head, he had to get over this, and besides, he had a mission to complete. "It's fine. I'd rather you not mess with my mind, if it's all the same. I just had a bad experience. I mean, I'm sure you heard about Loki taking over some S.H.I.E.L.D. agents during his attack." Harry nodded. "Well, I was one of them. It wasn't fun."

"I bet it wasn't," the raven gave him a sympathetic look, but it held no pity or judgment. "Magic like that is unforgivable. I've had magic like that used against me before, and it's one of the worst experiences in the world. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

The blond turned to look at his companion. The raw emotion in his voice, and his concern for an almost complete stranger, put him at ease like nothing ever had. He could tell, in his soul, that this man meant everything he said, and would never intentionally hurt anyone, friend or foe.

"Harry," he put his hand on the younger man's shoulder, "thanks for that. Now, I agreed to do this, it's too late to back out now. So, please, continue."

"Thanks," the wizard flashed him a brief smile. "But that isn't true, and if at any point you want to leave, just say the word and you can go. Anyway, as I was saying, I guess, I'm a wizard, but I don't use much magic anymore, mostly protection stuff, I'm not a complete idiot, I know there are people out there who still want to kill me. Anyway, the reason I had to tell you is because the Weasleys come from a long line of wizards and witches and they don't know how to live without it. Over the next two weeks, you're going to be exposed to a lot of it. But don't worry, I won't let them use any on you, not even the twins, who are notorious pranksters."

"I appreciate that," the archer smiled.

"The only thing I won't be able to protect you from is Mr. Weasley," Harry shook his head. "But don't worry, he's harmless. He'll just ask you thousands of questions about things we consider mundane, like plugs or rubber ducks."

"Okay," he chuckled. "I think I can handle that."

"If it gets to be too much, just find me, I've become adept at curbing his enthusiasm."

"I'll try and remember that," the blond shook his head. "Anything else I should know."

"Not that's direly important," a smirk pulled at the corners of the raven's mouth. "We can now move on to the getting to know you portion, or we could do that later, if you'd like to get some sleep."

"Ya know, I actually think a break would be good," Clint stretched a bit. "It's a long flight, so maybe we should get some sleep, and when we wake up, we'll finish the Q&A."

"Sounds good," Harry nodded, reclining his seat and making himself comfortable.

Clint followed his lead, and within minutes, they were both lost in the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

888888

Clint Barton started from his slumber as something jostled his chair. Blue eyes glanced up to see what had disturbed him, only to lock on the startled, highly apologetic face of their flight attendant.

"I'm so sorry, sir," she whispered sincerely. "There was just a bit of turbulence. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," he shook his head and glanced at his watch. It was just after eleven thirty, so at least he'd gotten a few hours of sleep. He put his seat up and stretched out the kinks in his back.

"Since you're awake now," she kept her voice low in deference to the other passengers, "is there anything I can get you? A drink? Or, if you'd like, lunch is being served."

"A Coke would be nice," he flashed her a thankful smile. "And I'll take whatever you recommend for food. In the meantime, could you point me in the direction of the bathroom?"

"Right back there," she pointed to the back of the cabin. "I'll be back in a few minutes with your food."

"Thanks," he nodded as she took her leave.

He glanced quickly around the rest of the cabin before pushing to his feet and making his way to the bathroom. He took care of his business and splashed some water on his face to further wake himself before returning to his seat. As he sat back down, his eyes were drawn to his still sleeping companion.

He wasn't sure what to think yet. His initial impression of the young man had been different. He'd found him interesting and no small amounts of entertaining. It took balls to enlist the spontaneous help of a complete stranger into a situation like that. For all he knew, Clint could've turned him down without a second glance. Even without this trip, though, he'd wanted to see Harry again, and get to know him, hell, even ask him out. But he hadn't sought him out. He hadn't been sure if Harry would welcome his attentions. He still wasn't.

And then there was this magic thing. Though, if he was being honest with himself, and he usually tried to be, that wasn't a deal breaker. True, he had a bad experience with Loki, but Harry definitely wasn't Loki, despite the physical similarities between them.

But all that aside, what was going to happen when all this was over? Harry would probably want nothing to do with him again. And could he blame him? No. Truth be told, would he really want to bring someone like Harry into his life? Hell, the guy was an accountant for crying out loud. No, he couldn't bring someone as innocent as Harry into the lifestyle of the Avengers. He'd probably get him killed, or worse. It was probably for the best if he didn't get involved. He wasn't rich like Tony, or a god like Thor, so having a noncombatant as a partner wasn't exactly smart. But god, did he want to.

Despite all his mental arguments, his eyes were drawn to the other's face. He looked so relaxed in sleep, unlike the tenseness he'd witnessed so far, and younger as well. His shoulder length hair spilled out behind his head, making it look like ink had been upturned on the white pillowcase. His bangs, which usually covered his forehead from the part on the side, had slipped carelessly across his face and looked like they'd tickle his nose at any moment.

Very carefully, Clint reached out and moved them aside, hoping the action didn't wake Harry up. A frown crossed his features as he noticed something that he hadn't before. He brushed them aside again, this time making sure to make the middle of his forehead visible. There, marring the otherwise unblemished flesh, was a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

Before he could contemplate how the young wizard had received it, he noticed that Harry was starting to stir. He hastily withdrew his hand as emerald orbs fluttered open. Harry blinked a few times, as if trying to focus before fumbling around in his seat for something. A moment later, he perched his glasses on the bridge of his nose and frowned at the archer.

"Where are we?" he yawned as he put his seat into an upright position.

"Somewhere over the Atlantic," the blond grinned.

"Ha ha, very funny," he rolled his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. "What time is it?"

"Eleven forty," Clint shook his head, trying not to think how endearing the other was when he first woke up.

"That means we'll land in a couple hours," Harry nodded. "Good. I'm tired of this plane."

Before the blond could say anything else, the wizard stood and made his way to the back of the cabin, obviously in search of the bathroom. While he was gone, the flight attendant finally returned with his meal.

"Thanks," he smiled.

"I see your companion is awake," she motioned to Harry's empty seat. "Do you know if he'll be wanting anything?"

"I couldn't say," the archer shrugged. "But he should be back shortly, if you want to make the rest of your rounds and hit us up on your way back."

"Alright," she smiled before moving off.

He had just started in on his food when Harry returned. The younger man frowned slightly at the fare before taking his seat. A moment later, the flight attendant appeared again.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" she asked politely.

"Uh, yeah," he shook his head, "do you have anything hot to drink?"

"We have several different flavors of coffee and tea, and hot chocolate," she rattled off automatically.

"Hot chocolate, please," he smiled, and because he could feel his companion's gaze on him, "And I'll have a salad, if you have it, with Italian dressing, or a vinaigrette."

"I'll have that right out," she left again.

She returned a few minutes later and handed Harry his requested items. Clint was a bit miffed that it took her about half the time to return this time then it had for his, but tried not to let it show. Harry, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to all this as he picked up his cup and began sipping at the hot contents.

"So," the raven said after a moment, "I guess it's time for the getting to know you portion."

"Right," the archer took a swig of Coke. "Before we do that, what do you know about me?"

"Well," Harry frowned slightly, "I know you're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and that you're really nice for helping me out with this whole thing. You use a bow and arrow, of all things. And apparently, you are one of the top five most eligible bachelors within S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Top five, huh?" this was news to the blond. "Who are the other four?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm assuming they're Tony Stark, Captain America, Thor," he ticked the off on his fingers, "I would say the last one is me, but, thank god, I fly too far under the radar for that, so I'm guessing it's the other Avenger, Hawkeye, I think he's called. Either him or Fury."

"Why would you be included in that list," his brow shot up incredulously, trying to hide his amusement at being on the list twice.

"Because I am the most eligible bachelor in wizarding Britain," he shrugged.

"Oh, and who are in the top five of that group?" he laughed, unable to hide his mirth any longer and needing the distraction. "Maybe if I meet one of them, I'll ditch you."

"Unlikely," Harry scoffed. "Aside from me, there's Draco Malfoy, rich, pureblood, and an all around prat; Blaise Zabini, once again, rich, pureblood, and a narcissistic asshole; Oliver Wood, he's a nice enough guy, but totally obsessed with sports; and, oh, who was the last one? Oh, right, Kinsley Shacklebolt, the decidedly single Minster of Magic."

"Interesting," he couldn't believe his luck on that one. Now he could report to Fury with something truly useful.

"Anyway," the wizard shook his head, "this is really not relevant to what we should be discussing. I'm going to start with who we're going to be staying with: Arthur and Molly Weasley. Arthur works at the Ministry and Molly is a stay at home mother, even though all her children are grown. Speaking of, they have seven children, who you may or may not meet, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny."

Clint nodded, that was easy enough. Though, he was grateful for his excellent memory.

"Bill works at the bank; his wife, Fleur, is a stay at home mother to their daughters, Victoire and Dominique. They might not be there because they might be in France with Fleur's parents. Charlie is single, and works in Romania. He will definitely be there. Percy works at the Ministry, and is married to Penelope. I'm not sure if he'll be there or not, they have a rather strained relationship with him. It's gotten better over the years, but it's still kinda tense. Fred and George are identical twins, and they own an international joke shop franchise. I happen to be a silent business partner with them, no one outside the family knows that, but since you are supposed to be pretending to be joining, you should know as well."

"Damn," the archer whistled softly. "That's quite impressive."

"Yeah, that's the impressive part," green eyes rolled sarcastically. "Anyway, next is Ron, he's my best friend, he's basically a cop in my world, he's also married to my other best friend, Hermione Granger, she also works at the Ministry. Then there's Ginny, who you met, and she also works at the Ministry. Think you got all that?"

The blond nodded and recited back the details.

"Okay," Clint held up his hand to forestall the next set of information, "my turn. You just basically gave me a rundown of your family, so I'll give you one of mine. My parents died when I was young and I jumped around for several years until I was picked up by S.H.I.E.L.D. I became a top agent and while on a mission, I met my current partner and best friend, Natasha Romanov. She is the closest thing I have to family now. Well, my new team is slowly starting to fill that role as well. You should take note of this, because if we've been dating for over a year, you would've met them. You did meet Steve at the gym. Then there are Tony and Bruce. Tony lives in New York, and Bruce stays there for the majority of the year. Steve lives in D.C. for now, he's looking for a place in Brooklyn where he grew up. And Nat and I share an apartment in D.C."

"That gives me a bit of a background on you as well," Harry nodded, hoping to keep them all straight. "So for mine, my parents died when I was fifteen months old. I was raised by my aunt and uncle, you don't really need to worry about them, we're not on speaking terms, and my cousin, Dudley. Speaking of Dudley, I do have plans to meet up with him and his family the day after Christmas. You don't have to come with me if you don't want to, he's not part of the ruse. When I was eleven, I was accepted at Hogwarts, that's where I met Ron and Hermione. I didn't end up finishing though, and when I was eighteen, I went to college and got a degree in Accounting. When I was twenty, I took my degree and joined S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Well, I think that's good for the big stuff," the blond nodded. "Anything else on that front, we can discuss later. Now, I think we need to move on to the details that will prove we're actually dating."

"Like what?" green eyes looked mildly confused.

"You haven't been in a serious relationship before, have you?"

"Is it that obvious?" he frowned.

"Don't worry, I've got ya covered," the archer chuckled. "What's your favorite meal? Like if I was going to make you something special to eat, what would you want?"

"Shepherd's pie," he shook his head, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, "with treacle tart for dessert. What about you?"

"Me?" Clint grinned. "I'm simple, I prefer a cheeseburger, fully loaded, and fries, and apple pie. I'm not overly picky about the kind of pie, they're all good, but apple is my favorite. And I'd wash it all down with a cold one."

"Hm," the raven got a contemplative look on his face. "Looks like we're going to have to pick up some beer before we leave London. I don't think the Weasleys will have any at their house. In fact, we should probably get a few other things for you to drink as well, just in case."

"That's a nice gesture," he shook his head, "but not necessary. I'll drink whatever's available. Anyway, what about music?"

"I'm not overly picky," Harry shrugged. "I'll listen to anything, except musical saws, those are just ghastly."

"I'll take your word for it. Personally, I prefer classic rock. Favorite movie?"

"You'll laugh," the wizard looked down at his hands, unable to meet the other's eye.

"I won't laugh," he promised. "There is no wrong favorite movie."

"Finding Nemo," he muttered quietly.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Clint smiled. "That's an awesome movie. Mine is Ocean's Eleven, both the original and the remake."

"Can't say I've seen that one," Harry frowned.

"Oh, they're awesome," the blond beamed. "Classy and hilarious."

"I'll have to check them out."

"You definitely should," he agreed. "I think that should do for now, we can figure out more as we go. As it is, we should be landing soon."

"Is it really that late?" Harry pulled a watch out of his pocket. "So, do you think we're ready to pull this off?"

"I think we are," the archer nodded confidently. "All we have to do now is face the music."

The raven nodded as the announcement came over the loud speaker announcing their descent into Heathrow.

* * *

Ammie: So, there it is. Next chapter we get to meet the wizards, yay! Anyway, let me know what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: Still Not Mine

AN: Okay, so this chapter isn't quite as long as the last one, but sadly I doubt many are going to be. And it may seem like a filler chapter, but sometimes those are needed. Anyway, hope you enjoy and let's get this show on the road.

Chapter 4

When they finally landed, they gathered their cases and made their way off the plane. As they made their way to baggage claim, something occurred to Harry and his steps faltered slightly.

"I just thought of something," he frowned at Clint's back, as the other hadn't realized he'd stopped.

"What's that?" the archer glanced over his shoulder.

"If we've been dating as long as we're pretending," he ran a hand through his hair, "there should be photographic evidence, but I can't do that."

"Hm," Clint scowled thoughtfully. "That could be a problem. Though, if you have some recent photos of yourself, I know someone who can get us some."

"I don't have any with me," the wizard sighed. "They're all in my apartment."

"If you give me the address, I can ask Nat to get them," the blond shrugged.

"But she doesn't have a key," he shook his head.

"That won't be a problem for her," a smirk crossed the archer's face. "And don't worry, she'll be discrete."

"I'd rather her not break into my apartment, but," the raven sighed again. "Fine." He rattled off the address. "They're in a box in the side table by the couch."

"I'll let her know," he pulled out his phone and began texting. "We should have them by tonight then, or first things in the morning."

"Great," Harry slumped slightly in relief. "Well then, let's go grab our bags and find Hermione."

From there, they grabbed their luggage and headed outside to meet their ride. Green eyes darted along the line of cars, only, he didn't see his friend or her car. With a frown, he pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. His frown deepened as he dialed a number from memory and put the device to his ear.

~Hello?~ a female voice answered on the third ring.

"Mione, where are you?" he asked concerned.

~Oh, Harry, I'm sorry,~ his friend apologized. ~I had to stop…~ she took a shuddering breath. ~I can be there in about half an hour.~

His frown turned to surprise as he heard the sound of retching across the line, "Mione? Hermione, are you sick? Tell me where you are and I'll be there in five minutes."

~Harry,~ she said finally, coughing slightly, ~I'm fine. Calm down, there's no need to panic. Just sit tight and I'll be there soon.~

"Hermione Jean Granger, tell me where you are right now," he demanded, causing Clint to stare at him in surprise at the tone. "Don't make me come find you on my own."

~Fine,~ she sighed and told him her location.

"Thank you," he nodded and cut the call.

He slipped the phone back in his pocket and picked up his bags.

"I'm sorry," he turned to his companion, "apparently something's happened to my friend and now I have to go find her."

"It didn't sound like she really wanted your help," the archer shook his head but shouldered his own duffle and motioned for Harry to lead the way.

"If she didn't want my help," the wizard scowled, "she would have been here on time."

He led Clint around a corner into a deserted little alleyway. Green eyes darted around quickly, making sure the coast was clear, before slipping his wand from his sleeve and holding it straight up in the air. Clint gave him a curious look as he just stood there. A moment later, however, they were both jumping backwards as a lurid purple, triple-decker bus appeared with a loud bang and stopped right where they had been standing.

A thin, pimply, jug-eared man in a purple uniform leapt down onto the pavement and said, "Welcome to the Knight Bus."

"Yeah, Stan, thanks," Harry held up his hand to forestall the prepared speech. "Listen, we need to get somewhere fast. I'll even pay extra if you make us the next stop."

"'Arry?" Stan just stood there staring a bit star struck. "It's been wha' five years? Where you been, 'Arry?"

Not now, Stan," the raven sighed and pushed past the conductor. "Hey, Ernie," he addressed the driver.

He spoke quietly to the old man behind the wheel as Clint looked around. The bus was crammed with an assortment of mismatched chairs grouped haphazardly around the windows. There were several other passengers already aboard, and some of them seemed to be picking themselves up from the sudden stop. The archer shook his head and turned his attention back to his companion, just in time to see him slip a large gold coin into the driver's hand.

"Okay," Harry went over to him and began leading him to a set of chairs. "We should be there in about five to ten minutes. And I would suggest you hold on tight, the ride gets kind of manic."

He had barely gotten the words out when the bus lurched into motion, causing their chairs to move forward about a foot. After the initial jolt, they settled in for the ride. A moment later, the conductor made his way back to them and took one of the empty seats in their cluster.

"Hi, Stan," Harry said before the other could. "It's good to see you again, and I'm sorry about that earlier, I'm in a hurry. I'm glad to see you got your old job back, it suits you."

"It's all thanks ta you, 'Arry, innit?" Stan shook his head. "So, oo's your friend?"

"Oh, uh, this is Clint Barton," the raven chuckled slightly. "He's a friend from work. Clint, this is Stan Shunpike."

"It's nice to meet you, Stan," the blond extended his hand.

Stan shook it with a grin. Luckily, in Harry's opinion, the bus came to a lurching stop before anything else could be said.

"Looks like this is your stop," the conductor looked mildly put out.

"Right," the wizard nodded, managing to pull off a passably disappointed look. "Well, I'll see you around, Stan. Stay out of trouble, okay?"

"Yeah, you too. Bye, 'Arry."

With that, the pair made their way to the front and got off. They found themselves at the edge of a crowded parking lot of a grocery store. No one seemed to notice or care about their sudden arrival, and that didn't bother Harry at all. The wizard pulled his phone out and quickly dialed.

~Hello?~

"Hermione, where are you?" he asked. "I'm in the parking lot."

~I told you not to worry,~ Hermione sighed. ~I'm on my way out of the store.~

"Great," Harry nodded, and motioned Clint to follow him. "We'll see you in a second."

They made their way through the parking lot and toward the front of the store. There, waiting by the entrance, was a bushy haired young woman. Her brown eyes were darting rapidly back and forth, obviously looking for someone. The wizard went over to her and placed a hand on her should.

"Mione," he said quietly, his voice laced with concern. "Is everything okay? You seem a bit peaky."

"Harry!" she turned in surprise and threw her arms around his neck in a fierce hug. "Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you made it. Though you really should have waited at the airport. How did you get here anyway?"

"Knight Bus," he shook his head. "But you didn't answer my question."

"She's fine, Harry," Clint covered his mouth to hide his smile, realizing what was going on with little more than a cursory glance. "I'm Clint, by the way. Harry seems a bit focused at the moment to do the introductions."

"Bullheaded, you mean," she gave him a calculating look. "I'm Hermione Granger. And you're obviously the fiancé we know nothing about."

"Clint," Harry interjected, pulling out his wallet and handed the blond several bills, "why don't you go and get the stuff we talked about. We'll be right here, I just need to have a word with Hermione."

"Okay," the archer shrugged, pocketing the bills, and made his way into the store.

When he was safely inside the store, Harry turned to his best friend. They both crossed their arms and stared at the other, clearly waiting for the other to crack first.

"Well," the bespectacled man finally said, "you gonna tell me what's really going on with you, or do I have to call Ron?"

"Fine," she scowled darkly. "We were waiting to tell everyone together, but since you're being a stubborn ass about it, I'm pregnant. I had to stop at this charming grocery store to throw up, because, contrary to popular belief, morning sickness doesn't just happen in the morning, and motion sickness is also quite common. Are you happy now?"

"Are—are you kidding?" Harry gaped at her. "I—I'm thrilled. You guys must be so excited. But why didn't you tell me before? I mean, I can understand holding off and telling the family all at once, but I'm your best friend."

"Well, we just found out a couple weeks ago," she sighed. "And we were going to tell you, but, you know Ron, he got upset when he found out you had a fiancé from his mother instead of you."

"Oh god, I didn't even think about you guys," he ran his hand through his hair agitatedly. "Look, Mione," he sighed at the return of her stern expression, "Clint isn't my fiancé. Before I told Ginny that, I had never even met the man."

"Oh Harry, you didn't?" she gave him an exasperated look.

"I panicked, Mione," he shook his head. "Ginny wasn't buying that I was seeing someone anymore. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't think she'd run and tell Molly. The way I see it, if I can pull off these next two weeks, I can come up with some way that we broke up afterwards."

"What are we going to do with you, Harry?" she couldn't help but laugh.

"You could help me?" he gave her his best puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," she finally gave in. "But on one condition: You tell Ron the truth tonight."

"Deal," he grinned.

888888

As soon as Clint was sure he wasn't being followed into the store, he pulled out his phone and called his superior. The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

~Fury. Talk to me.~

"I haven't found much yet," the archer began. "I just landed. But I did find out who K. Shacklebolt is."

~And?~

"He's the British MoM," Clint side-glanced at a woman pushing a cart down the aisle he was currently in.

~MoM?~

"Oh, you should see London this time of year, Nick," he said a little loudly. "The snow and lights makes it quite magical."

~Ah,~ his superior said in acknowledgement, of both the clue and the fact that he couldn't talk freely. ~That gives him automatic level five. I'll contact MACUSA to verify and see what gives him the right to give an agent level seven without my clearance. You get a name?~

"Not yet," he sighed. "Black was his godfather though."

~Alright. Report back when you have more.~

"Right. Later then."

He clicked off the device and slipped it back into his pocket. He then quickly gathered what he'd been sent in for in the first place. After he had paid for his purchases, he made his way back out of the store where Harry and Hermione were still waiting, though the tension between them was gone. Once he joined them, Hermione led them to her car, and at his insistence, handed Harry the keys.

888888

Meanwhile in D.C.

Natasha Romanov made her way to the address Clint had sent her. She had found the place easily enough, and breaking in hadn't been that much of a problem either. It was what she found inside that gave her pause. It wasn't a high end place, like Tony Stark would have, but it was nice. Not like the one she shared with Clint. It had a decent sized living room, that actually had a fireplace, a rather large, updated, divided kitchen, and a hallway that led to a bedroom and a bathroom.

She didn't explore beyond the cursory sweep, she had broken in with permission to get specific items after all, and she respected that. So after she had poked her head in the bedroom, which had a four poster, queen-sized canopy bed, what kind of guy had a canopy bed? she made her way back to the living room.

She sat down on the dark green suede couch and began rummaging through the side table. It didn't take her long to find the box of pictures, considering they were exactly where she'd been told they were. She spent a few minutes sifting through the loose photographs, selecting some of the more recent ones for Tony to butcher.

Most of them showed Harry with a combination of the same two people, including their wedding, and, it looked like, a family of redheads. There were a few from S.H.I.E.L.D. get-togethers as well, but not nearly as many. Though, at the bottom of the box was a nice, leather-bound photo album.

She pulled it out of the box and settled back to have a good look. After her initial shock of seeing the pictures move, she took a closer look at the occupants of the photos. About half of them contained a couple, a dark haired man with hazel eyes and glasses that looked an awful lot like Harry if he'd had shorter hair and glasses, and a pretty redheaded woman with Harry's green eyes. She assumed they could only be Harry's parents. When she came across their wedding photo, she very carefully prized it loose and flipped it over. On the back in faded ink it said: James and Lily Potter followed by the date.

Well, that was something.

She shook her head and carefully returned the picture to its proper place. Once that was completed, she placed the album back in the box, along with the majority of the others as well. She then gathered the ones she nodded and let herself out, being sure to lock it back up behind her.

* * *

Ammie: Okay, they finally arrived in London. We'll just have to wait and see how well it goes from here... mwahaha. Anyway, please let me know what you think.


	6. Chapter 6

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: I own nothing….

AN: Happy Easter, whether you celebrate it or not. I wanted this chapter to be up sooner, but other fics kept rearing their ugly heads. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Chapter 5

Harry stopped the car outside a large ramshackle house, that looked like a child had stacked it together with no supervision. Clint didn't comment as the three of them got out of the vehicle. The two males made their way to the trunk to retrieve their things before joining the female, who had graciously waited for them, and heading toward the house. The raven held the door open for the others.

Inside, seated around the table, were three women and two young girls. They appeared to be in the middle of dinner. They all turned to look at the new arrivals. As soon as the door closed behind Harry, the two children were out of their seats and running toward the raven haired man.

"Unc'e Harry!" they squealed happily as they each latched on to his legs.

"Victoire, Dominique," he laughed as he awkwardly patted their heads while trying to set down his suitcases. "How are my two favorite girls doing?"

The girls began talking at once, making it almost impossible to follow along.

"Girls!" the blonde clapped her hands to get their attention. "Sit down and finish your dinner." Once the girls were seated again, she rose and took their place, wrapping her arms around Harry. "It's so good to see you again. It's been too long. You really should visit more often."

"It's good to see you too, Fleur," Harry shook his head, returning the embrace. "And I kinda actually work for a living, so I can't always be out here."

"Let's not argue his first night here," the older redhead admonished, as she got to her feet. "We're just happy you're here, Harry. Now, why don't you introduce us to this charming young man you brought with you?"

"Right," the raven scratched his neck sheepishly. "Molly, this is my fiancé, Clint. Clint, this is Molly, Fleur, and you already met Ginny. And these two little monsters," he knelt down and hugged both of the children properly and nuzzled each of their cheeks in turn, "are Victoire and Dominique."

"It's nice to meet you," the archer nodded. "Harry's told me so much about you."

"So," Harry said, before anyone else could comment, "where are the guys? I didn't think they'd ever skip a meal."

"Oh, they're not," Ginny finally spoke up, her eyes fixedly glued on Harry. "There's not enough room in here for everyone, so they're in the living room, listening to the Quidditch match."

"Who's playing?" the wizard asked curiously.

"England and Bulgaria," the younger redhead answered. "England's currently ahead, but Bulgaria still has a chance, what with Krum as Seeker."

"Yeah, Viktor's good," Harry shook his head, "no one can deny that, but England has Wood, Katie, Alicia, and Draco. And Draco has never missed the Snitch, except to one person."

"Right," she scoffed. "The one person who only actually lost one game in his entire career. But you can't compare school days to now. Malfoy's good, but Krum is better."

"One would think," green eyes narrowed slightly, "that you didn't have a patriotic bone in your body. Your time with the Harpies destroyed your national pride."

"Alright, that's enough," Molly held up her hands. "Harry, why don't you go say hello to the boys, then you can take your things upstairs. You'll both be in Percy's old room."

"Right, thanks, Molly," he smiled as he got up.

He motioned for Clint to follow him as he made his way into the other room. There were six men seated around the room, all of them redheads. Their attention was focused on an old fashioned radio that was broadcasting the game that Harry and Ginny were discussing. It seemed they'd just reached the climax of the game as cheers and curses filled the room.

"Damn it!" one of the twins on the couch swore. "I was sure Krum would get the Snitch!"

"So…" Clint glanced around the room, "I take it England won?"

All eyes shifted to the doorway. They stared at the stranger for a moment before their gazes shifted to the raven haired man.

"Harry!" they practically said as one.

It was as if the name were some sort of signal, as five of them got up and surrounded the accountant. Apparently, a group hug was in order as they all practically tackled the raven haired man.

"So, Harry," the older man, obviously the patriarch of the family, who had remained seated, said calmly, as if used to the actions of his offspring, "care to introduce your friend?"

"Right," Harry grunted slightly as he freed himself from the pile up. "Arthur, this is Clint. Clint, this is Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron."

"Oh, right," the youngest redhead scoffed, "the fiancé none of us knew about."

"Ron," the bespectacled man rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Look, it's been a long day. Why don't you show us where we'll be staying?"

"You know where…" green eyes met brown in a pointed stared. "Right, I'll show you upstairs."

He broke away from his brothers and began heading toward the stairs. Harry touched the archer's arm before they both fell into step behind the redhead. They climbed the rickety staircase that zigzagged its way up through the house. They stopped on the second landing and Ron opened the door and motioned them through. Once they were inside, he flicked his wand and the candles around the room flared to life.

"You know, Harry," Ron closed the door behind him, "I can understand you not telling everyone about your boy toy here, but I thought I was your best friend. You could've called and said you were seeing someone."

"Ron," the raven said patiently.

"We have a phone, Hermione made sure of that, or there's the floo," he continued, throwing his hands up. "But no, I had to hear from my mother that you're fucking engaged."

"Ron, I'm not engaged!" Harry hissed quietly, grabbing his friend by the shoulders, effectively putting an end to his rant.

"What?" brown eyes stared at him blankly.

"Just hold on," he pulled his wand and cast several privacy spells. "Okay, that's better. Look, Clint isn't my fiancé, I barely met him a week ago."

"Okay…" the redhead frowned. "Then why is he here? And why would you tell my mum you were?"

"I didn't tell your mum I was engaged," the bespectacled man sighed, running his hands through his hair. "I told Ginny that."

"Wait, why?"

"Because she showed up at my work and wasn't buying that I was seeing someone anymore," he flopped down on the bed. "I panicked. Clint was the first guy I saw. He was a real sport about it. Then your mum called. I kinda panicked again. And well, now here we all are."

"Damn, Harry, you really stuck your foot in it this time," Ron shook his head, sitting down next to him. "I don't think you've ever done anything like this before. Stupid and reckless, sure, but this is on a whole other level. What are you planning to do after this? Are you planning to grow old with this guy just to keep Ginny off your ass?"

"No," the raven sighed. "I planned to come up with some sort of break up after we got back. I just really want Ginny to get off my back."

"I get that," the redhead agreed. "You know at one point, I did kinda fantasize about you getting together with Ginny and actually being a member of the family, but after I caught you snogging Dean in the dormitory, I gave up on that idea. But this is a bit much, even for you. I mean, how are you planning to break up with him?"

"He can't break up with me," Clint interjected from his spot next to the door.

Both wizards started at the sudden return, having forgotten he was still in the room with them.

"What do you mean?" green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "The whole plan was to pull this off for two weeks, and then you could go back to your life and never see me again."

"You misunderstand," the blond held up his hands. "No, logically, you can't break up with me unless you want to leave an opening for her to try again. Cause the only logical situation for you to break up with me that would leave you completely heartbroken is if I cheated on you, and I refuse to even pretend that happened, because that is just not who I am. So, the only way to keep her off long enough for you to find an actual boyfriend is for me to call it off."

"And you think you could come up with something that would believably break him?" Ron's brow rose skeptically.

"Beauty of that is that I have at least two weeks to come up with something," the archer smirked. "On top of that, I can always ask Nat and Tony for suggestions. He's a playboy and has lots of practice, and Nat, she's the best spy I know so she can come up with anything."

"That's all well and good," Harry shook his head. "But right now, we have to focus on pulling off the next two weeks as a believable couple."

"Well," Ron pushed to his feet, "you know Hermione and I will back you up on this, with whatever you need. Anyway, I'll leave you to settle in. If you're hungry, you know mum made enough."

"Thanks, Ron," the raven smiled. "I'm sure we'll be down soon."

With that, the redhead took his leave. As soon as the door closed behind him, green eyes locked with blue.

"So," Clint finally pushed off the wall and made his way further into the room, "I noticed you didn't rip him a new one for not telling you about the baby."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I didn't understand where he was coming from," he ran his hand through his hair. "Besides, I'd rather have only one fight a night, thank you very much. Anyway, I know all our stuff is still downstairs and we'll be going back in a minute, but you can have the bed, I'll…"

"Look, Harry," he held up his hand, cutting him off, "we're both adults here, and the bed is more than big enough for the both of us. Don't pretend to be noble by offering to take the floor, we're beyond that."

"I wasn't going to," a dark brow rose in amusement. "I was going to say I could conjure a cot, because I wasn't going to presume you'd want to share a bed with me, but since you insist. Anyway, I don't know about you, but I haven't had anything but shitty airplane food all day, so I'm going to grab some food, you're welcome to join me."

"Yeah, sure," Clint shook his head, dropping his bow case and duffle on the bed.

He then held out his hand to help Harry to his feet. He draped his arm around the shorter man's shoulders, and together they left the room.

888888

Natasha made her way to the top floor of the Avengers Tower, on her way to see Tony Stark, the only person outside S.H.I.E.L.D., and even within for that matter, that she and Clint trusted who had the technical knowhow to complete the task the archer needed. Of course, to get his help she was going to have to tell the billionaire what exactly her best friend was up to, as well as the rest of the Avengers, but in her opinion, Clint deserved it for stealing the cute little accountant from her.

When she reached the penthouse, she exited the elevator and went into the main common room. It didn't surprise her that the rest of the team were already present, as Thor and Steve had the next week off due to the holidays, and Tony was planning a big party for them all.

"Hey, Tony," she cleared her throat, drawing all attention to herself, "I need your help, or more, Clint needs your help."

"Really?" the billionaire quirked a brow. "Where is Legolas anyway? I thought you were both going to be staying her with the rest of us for the holidays."

"We were," she shrugged, "but Clint should be in London by now."

"London?" he practically screeched, not that Tony Stark screeched mind you. "All of you agreed to be here for my party. Why the fuck is he in London?"

"Fury gave him a mission," Steve frowned at his language. "He's trailing Harry Black for the next two weeks, to see if he can find anything out about him, especially why he would have a level seven clearance."

"That's what he let Fury believe," the redhead chuckled. "He wasn't going to tell him that he got invited to London by Harry himself."

"Wait, what, why?" Tony shook his head.

"I'm kind of agreeing with Tony here," the man out of time looked confused. "Why would Black invite him on his vacation?"

"Apparently, Harry needed his fake fiancé back," she shrugged. "Which brings me back to why he needs Tony's assistance. They kinda want some photographic evidence of their supposed relationship. And while you play with that," she took the pictures she's pilfered earlier and handed them to the genius, "can I borrow Jarvis for a bit?"

"What for?" brown eyes skimmed rapidly over the photos.

"I want to run a search on Harry James Potter," she shook her head. "I have a feeling that's Harry's real name."

"Why does that name sound familiar?" Bruce asked, showing his first real interest in the conversation.

"Don't know," Tony shrugged. "Anyway, Miss Muffet, ready to play?"

Natasha rolled her eyes at the nickname, but followed the inventor out of the room.

* * *

AN: Okay, so since the joke is over, I've moved the snippets from the new stories to the end of the chapter. And the winner of the Poll is Nothing to Lose, the Tony/Harry fic. Anyway, please enjoy.

Point of No Return

Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World, sat at a small table in the library of his current home, twelve Grimmauld Place. The twenty-one year old was pouring over a thin leather bound journal he'd found in the back of the Black library. The text was written in a form of runic language, which would explain the open rune dictionary beside it. Green eyes darted between the two books as he took notes in a Muggle notebook.

Harry had spent the years since the final battle attending Muggle college, with a focus on mythology and ancient civilizations. For his final project he'd written a dissertation about how magic would influence the twenty first century if it had been allowed to flourish as it had in ancient times. His professors assumed it was purely hypothetical, because magic just simply didn't exist, but he knew better. In fact, he was currently taking the knowledge he had amassed and was mixing it with wizarding knowledge to write a book that would hopefully educate the Wizarding world into opening up to the possibility of becoming more integrated and public in the non magical world. Which brought him to his current research.

He had found the handwritten journal squashed between two larger tomes on one of the top shelves in a back corner. He had found himself drawn to it by the strange magic it practically radiated. Upon further inspection, he'd discovered it was an old Norse text, dating back to the Vikings or further. It had turned out to be a heavily warded diary of some sort. He had tried a translation spell on it, but the wards made it impervious to anything he'd tried, so he'd dug out the rune dictionary. What he had translated so far, which sadly but unsurprisingly wasn't much, detailed the daily life of whoever wrote it, as well as some really powerful spells. The spells he had encountered so far appeared to be older, more powerful variations of common spells. Though if performed straight from the book it would require at least two to three people to achieve the required power. Though at the moment, he seemed to have come across a binding ritual, which seemed to be simple enough to perform, but still.

He was interrupted by a sudden knocking on his front door. He frowned as he set his pencil, he'd found the Muggle utensil much easier to use than a quill, down on his notes and pushed to his feet. He wasn't expecting anyone, but his friends did have a tendency to show up unannounced. And it had to be one of his friends, because the wards he had around the place wouldn't let anyone in unless they already knew where it was. With that thought in mind, he relaxed slightly as he made his way to the door. He still exercised caution as he slid the lock and opened it a crack.

* * *

Nothing to Lose

Harry Potter groaned quietly as he started to wake up. His head was pounding and his mouth tasted like something had died in it, clear signs of an over indulgence of alcohol. One green eye cracked open, to gauge the brightness of the room, only to squeeze shut almost immediately from the intensity of the morning desert sun. After another moment, he knew he would have to face the day, as his bladder was making itself known.

Very carefully, he crawled out of the king sized bed and padded quietly to the bathroom. Once he had relieved himself, he made his way to the sink to wash his hands and splash some water on his face. He felt marginally better after that, but opened the mirrored cabinet and found a bottle of painkillers. He downed three and leaned on the counter with his eyes closed, wishing he had thought to bring a hangover potion with him when he decided to visit Las Vegas.

The twenty-five year old had been living in New York for the past eight years, since the final battle of Hogwarts. He had basically washed his hands of the wizarding world and disappeared to the States. He only kept in contact with a couple of people and then not on a regular basis.

No, he had opened a little shop in Manhattan that sold teas and herbal remedies, read magical herbs and potions that were made Muggle friendly. He didn't really need the money, but it filled his days, kept him busy. And while he mostly kept to himself, he had become somewhat friends with some of his regular customers. Which was the reason he was actually in Vegas at the moment.

One of his more loyal customers, Steve, had wandered in several months ago looking for something to help him sleep. He was a tall man, over six feet, with short blond hair, and was solid muscle. He was a bit bulky for Harry's tastes, but he was one of the sweetest, most well mannered men he'd met since moving to the States. After he had recommended a mild sleeping draught, disguised as a tea, they had started up an interesting, albeit unlikely, friendship. They never discussed many personal matters, but they got along well enough.

It had been Steve who had suggested he take some time off and see the country that he now lived in, when he had admitted he'd not left the city in eight years. As an added incentive, the man had offered to watch the shop for him while he was gone. How could he really refuse that? So, together, they had pulled out a map and marked all the touristy spots across the nation and planned a trip.

He had decided to start in Vegas because it was the biggest distraction he could think of. It had sounded like a good idea, but he'd only been there twenty-four hours and already he was regretting ever setting foot in Sin City.

He could feel the painkillers starting to kick in and opened his eyes again. A frown marred his features as he caught sight of a flash of gold on his left hand. No. No, no, no, no, no, this could not be happening. He lifted his hand to examine the plain gold band more closely. He tried to pull it off, but it wouldn't budge, even when he tried using water and soap. It was like it was stuck there by magic.

* * *

Once Upon a Dream

 _Harry Potter, age seventeen, stared around at the darkness surrounding him, unsure of where he was. He turned in place, trying to see anything in the inky blackness. A flash of something green caught his attention and he tried to focus on what it could be._

" _Who are you?" a deep, silky voice asked curiously._

" _Harry," he frowned, his eyes still trying to adjust. "Who are you?"_

" _We'll get to that," the other laughed, as bright green eyes appeared as their owner regarded him. "What are you doing here?"_

" _I don't even know where 'here' is," he shook his head. "And why won't you answer my question about who you are?"_

" _Hm," the other hummed. "I don't believe you could handle it. Though, I do suggest you leave. I don't think the Allfather would approve of my having visitors, even in my dreams. Or especially in my dreams. Both, perhaps."_

" _I didn't ask to be here," Harry scoffed slightly. "I don't even know how I got here. So leaving might be a bit tricky."_

" _Well," the voice turned thoughtful, "perhaps, since this is my dream, the easiest solution would be for me to wake up."_

" _Wait, no," he protested, that didn't sound right at all, "this is my dream. It—it has to be."_

" _Then by all means, dear Harry, wake up."_

Green eyes flew open and Harry sat straight up. He glanced around and realized he was in the bedroom of his best friend, Ronald Weasley. He flopped back on his pillow, throwing his arm across his forehead. It was just a dream.

"You okay over there, mate?" his friend's voice drifted quietly across the room.

"Yeah, just a dream," the raven haired teen sighed.

"Anything important?" a candle flared to life beside Ron's bed.

"No," Harry shook his head. "Nothing like that. It was just weird. It was completely dark."

"Was someone else there?" the redhead propped himself up on his elbows.

"Yeah, there was," he turned his head to look at the other. "But I couldn't see them. We talked for a minute, but that was it."

"It's about damn time," Ron laughed. "Though I guess it makes sense."

"What are you on about?"

"Your soulmate, mate," his friend said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I mean, you didn't start getting dreams right away like Hermione and I did, so obviously your soulmate has to be younger. That's what the book said, right? If you don't start having dreams right away then your soulmate hasn't come of age yet. So they had to have just turned sixteen, probably even to…"

* * *

Ammie: Anyway, I really hope you enjoy the actual chapter as well and let me know what you think.


	7. Chapter 7

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.

AN: Okay, so here's the next chapter. I'm going to point out now, this fic was never supposed to be that long, so there won't be many more chapters. Though, that being said, I'm not going to rush things along. Anyway, all that aside, on to the fic.

Chapter 6

Natasha stared at the screen Jarvis had brought up incredulously. The A.I. had found quite a lot on Harry James Potter from England who matched the age of Harry J. Black. The quiet little accountant she'd been crushing on for the past couple of weeks couldn't be the same person she was reading about.

"Tony," she said quietly, "could you take a look at this?"

"What?" the billionaire sighed. "Can't you see I'm in the middle of something here? I'm trying to make it look like Katniss has been dating this mysterious cutie for months."

"Okay," her eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell me this then, what would you say someone would have to do to be knighted at seventeen?"

"Come again?" Tony's head whipped in her direction so fast it looked painful. "He what now?"

"Well, there's not much about him growing up," she scrolled through the provided information. "There's a birth certificate, the death certificates of his parents, looks like they died in a freak accident in their home and only Harry survived, then he shows up again in the care of his mother's sister. His school years were nothing of note, abysmal grades and reports of fighting and delinquency. Then he just disappears at the age of eleven, only to return at seventeen to be knighted by the queen."

"That doesn't sound right," he frowned. "Maybe we should ask Fury. It's possible he might actually know something if we give him this new information."

"You're willing to go to Fury with this instead of prying on your own?" a brow rose incredulously. "Who are you and what have you done with Tony Stark?"

"Look," he shook his head, "I could easily break into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files and find out what they know, but since the Avengers were formed, I'm trying to play nice. So, yes, we should talk to Fury. If I feel he's withholding something or lying then I will gladly hack in."

"There's the Tony I know," she smirked and placed the call to her superior.

~What do you want, Stark?~ the director asked once the call connected.

"It's me, Director," the redhead answered.

~Romanov,~ he nodded. ~Still didn't answer my question.~

"Well, Clint asked for our help," she began, "and I think we just figured out who Black is."

~And?~

"We're pretty sure that his real name is Harry James Potter," the assassin took a deep breath.

~How sure?~ he scowled, his one good eye narrowing dangerously.

"According to facial recognition," Tony cut in, "ninety percent."

~I'll get confirmation from Barton,~ Fury folded his hands in front of him, his expression turning stern. ~In the meantime, I want you all to leave this alone. Stay as far away from Potter, or Black, or whatever he wants to go by, as possible. I don't need any of you scaring him off. I will have a meeting with him when he returns from his vacation. And I mean it, Stark, back off.~

With that being said, he cut the call. The pair of Avengers shared a confused look before the billionaire moved to the nearest keyboard. His fingers flew over the keys and the screens around him began filling with information.

"Fury said not to do this," Natasha leaned back against the nearest table and began examining her fingernails.

"Uh-huh," he agreed. "Look, Red, if you're just gonna stand there and not help me get what S.H.I.E.L.D. has on Harry Potter, why don't you send Bird Brain those photos? They should be passable enough."

888888

Clint stared around the dark room. He wasn't sure what had woke him up, but the fact that he had been sleeping at all surprised him no small amount. It usually took him a few days in a new place to get more than a couple restless hours of light sleep at any given point. But he could tell that he'd slept most of the night, and well at that.

He heard the faint buzzing of his cell phone on the nightstand. That must have been what woke him up. He went to reach for the device, hoping it hadn't disturbed his current roommate, only to find his movement limited. He lifted his head off the pillow to see what the problem was. Well that was an interesting development.

Harry, who had started out the night on the opposite side of the bed with his back to him, was now curled up against his right side with his head cradled on his shoulder. Oh god, this wasn't good. No, it was more than good, it was great, but it could just end so badly. God, he was acting like a teenager.

So what if a cute guy was currently using him as a pillow? So what if he was attracted to said guy? So what if he was really considering trying to pursue an actual relationship once this farce was over? So what if… Oh, thank god, saved by the bell.

His phone went off again, and he stretched out his left arm. He managed to grab the device without jostling Harry too much. Thank god, he now had a distraction. He unlocked his phone, and opened the messages Tony was sending him. It looked like the genius had done it again. These pictures looked really good.

"What's going on?" Harry groaned quietly. "What time is it?"

"It's just after five," Clint shook his head. "Sorry I woke you up."

"It was the phone," he stretched slightly. "Sudden changes in lighting tend to throw off my sleep. Long story. Anyway, what was so important that it couldn't wait? You don't have to go on a mission, do you?"

"Nothing like that," the archer chuckled. "No, uh, it's the pictures my friend doctored for us."

"Oh?" the raven leaned up on his elbow. "Can I see?"

"Yeah, sure," Clint frowned as he opened the most recent one. "Uh, Harry, is there something you forgot to tell me?"

He turned the phone to the wizard. The picture on the screen showed the two of them standing at the gates of an amusement park with a little boy, no older than ten, with bright blue hair. Harry grabbed the phone out of his hand and sat up fully.

"Oh fucking shit," he swore. "I completely forgot about Teddy."

"Okay," the blond sat up as well. "Who's Teddy?"

"He's my godson," he shook his head. "This is bad."

"How so?" Clint quirked a brow. "We can always just delete the photo."

"You don't get it," he ran his hands through his hair in agitation. "Teddy and his grandmother have been spending the summers with me since I moved to America five years ago. Andromeda's not a problem, she'll play along, but how do you explain to an eight year old that he has to pretend to know someone he's never met?"

"Okay, calm down," the archer held up his hand and took his phone back. "First off, is this really going to effect the next two weeks? When you mentioned what we'd be doing, you didn't mention going to see your godson, just said we'd be meeting your cousin the day after Christmas. So how will his knowing one way or the other effect our stay here?"

"Yeah, it will," Harry sighed. "Teddy and Andromeda will be here Christmas day. As I said, I completely forgot about him, which is stupid because he's been a constant in my life since his parents died when he was barely a month old."

"Look, it happens, Harry, don't beat yourself up about it," he shook his head. "So here's what we're gonna do. Tomorrow, or later today, whatever, we'll come up with a reason to go out. We can take Ron and Hermione with us, since apparently you don't mind them knowing, and they can cover for us while we go see your godson and get him on board with this."

"You're right," the wizard agreed. "We just need to go see Teddy. I'm sure he'll help. Well, why don't you go back to sleep? I've gotta make a phone call."

He got out of bed and grabbed a robe from the desk chair. He picked up his phone from the desk and made his way out of the room. Clint watched him go before looking back at his own phone, which he was kinda glad he'd taken back when he did. The last picture was one that he didn't think he'd be showing the younger man, not after their conversation on the plane, considering it showed the two of them with the rest of the Avengers.

888888

Harry took a deep breath as he stood on the front step of Andromeda Tonks' house. He had convinced Ron and Hermione to leave the comfort of the Burrow, the four of them using the excuse of last minute Christmas shopping, so he and Clint could go see his godson. He was exceedingly nervous about how the eight year old would take this, and what he'd have to promise him to get him to play along.

"You might want to knock," the blond's voice cut into his thoughts. "It's kinda creepy just standing on the porch like this."

"Would you just zip it, please?" green eyes narrowed into a glare. "You obviously don't realize how hard it's going to be to get this boy to play along. I'm probably going to have to sell my soul just to appease him, and I don't have two of them anymore."

"Two?" the archer frowned.

"Just let me do the talking, okay?" Harry finally raised his fist and knocked, leaving Clint highly confused.

The door opened a moment later by a sandy haired little boy. As soon as he saw who it was a huge grin split his face.

"Uncle Harry," he practically launched himself on the raven.

"Hey, Teddy," the bespectacled man hugged him close. "Where's Grandma Andy?"

"She's in the kitchen," the now pink haired boy pointed down the hallway. "Why are you here? I wasn't expecting to see you till Christmas. Did you bring me presents? How long are you staying? Can I go home with you tonight? Who's that?"

He finally took a breath as his eyes landed on Clint. Harry placed his fingers across the boy's lips so he couldn't launch into another tirade as he made his way into the house.

"Now," he shook his head, "I'm here to talk with you for a bit. No, I did not bring your presents, you'll get them at the Burrow Christmas morning. No, you cannot come with me tonight, there's not room at the Burrow. And besides, you're having company tonight, which is also why we can't stay long. And this is Clint. Clint, this is my godson, Teddy Lupin."

"You know, Harry," an older woman with brown hair, liberally peppered with grey, and kind brown eyes said as she entered the hallway, "you spoil him when you answer all his questions like that."

"Oh, and you're telling me Tonks didn't talk exactly like that when she was his age?" a dark brow rose curiously, as he set the boy down and moved to embrace her.

"I'm not saying she didn't," she shook her head, accepting the hug. "I'm just trying to do better with Teddy. Now, why don't you introduce me to this charming young man you told me about over the phone?"

"Oh, right," he scratched his neck sheepishly. "Andy, this is Clint Barton. Clint, this is Teddy's grandmother, Andromeda Tonks."

"It's a pleasure, ma'am," Clint extended his hand.

"Oh, call me Andy, please," she shook his hand. "Now, why don't we go sit down? I'll get some tea while you explain a few things to Teddy."

They made their way into the kitchen and took seats around the table. As Andromeda moved about, making tea for all of them, Harry explained the situation to his godson. The eight year old, who was pretty bright for his age, considering who his father was, seemed to catch on pretty quick.

"So you want me to pretend I know your boyfriend, who's not really your boyfriend?" he clarified, pointing to Clint. "And that you're going to marry him, but not really? All so that Ginny won't know you're not dating anybody?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Harry nodded. "And if you do a good job, we'll do whatever you want to next summer. I'll even take you to Disneyland."

"Can I meet the Avengers?" his eyes turned gold in his excitement.

"Teddy, I've explained this before," the raven rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Just because I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't mean…"

"Done," Clint interjected. "You want to meet the Avengers, kid, you got it."

"So, Harry," Andromeda cut in before another word could be said, as Teddy began dancing around the room, his hair rapidly going through every color of the rainbow, "do you and Clint want to stay for dinner? There's going to be plenty. And I'm sure Teddy would like it."

"That's low, Andy," the wizard shook his head, taking a deep breath to keep his thoughts in check. "But I'm going to have to decline. You're having a family dinner with your sister tonight. I'm not going to stay and intrude on that. Besides, I don't think you really want to deal with Draco and I being in the same room, not to mention Lucius."

"Stop being such a drama queen," brown eyes rolled in slight annoyance. "It's just dinner, it won't be that bad."

"That's what you said two years ago," he pointed out. "And so I went. Then Draco got a little bit drunk and started running his mouth. And there was almost a full on wizarding war in the Malfoy's drawing room. No, Andromeda, I'm not going through that again, and I really don't think we should subject Teddy to that kind of environment. Now, I'm not saying he doesn't need to know his relatives, they're your family and he has every right to know them. And I'm really glad that you and Cissa have patched things up. But putting me with them is just going to cause conflict, and I'm not going there. Besides, we need to meet back up with Ron and Hermione, and at least do some shopping, since that was our excuse for going out today."

"Fine," she conceded. "I guess we'll see you bright and early Christmas morning then."

"Yeah," he nodded. "We'll see you then."

888888

Harry held himself in check for the remainder of the day while they were out. As soon as they arrived back at the Burrow, however, he didn't let the archer even go inside but dragged him over by the shed. Not seeing anyone in the immediate area, he turned to Clint, his eyes alight with emerald fury.

"How dare you?!" he practically yelled, but managed to keep his voice low. "How fucking dare you?!"

"What did I do?" the blond asked, mildly confused.

He knew the wizard had been irritated with him since they had left his godson, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out a reason why.

"Oh, don't even fucking pretend you don't know," Harry snapped. "You fucking promised my godson that he could meet the Avengers. But guess what? I don't fucking know the Avengers. And by next summer, you're not going to be in the picture anymore, and I'm gonna be stuck with the fucking backlash when he comes out to D.C. expecting to meet the fucking Avengers."

"Okay," he held up his hands to stop the other's rant, "this has gone far enough."

"You're right, it has," green eyes narrowed dangerously. "I think you need to leave. Here," he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and shoved it into the other man's chest, "that's half of what I owe you. It's all they could exchange right now. I'll get you the rest when I get back to D.C. And after that, I never want to see you again."

"Enough," the archer put two fingers over Harry's lips. "First of all, when I said that, I wasn't talking about this," he waved his hand in a vague gesture to incorporate everything. "I don't give up on things that easily. Secondly, I didn't promise Teddy he could meet the Avengers just to shut him up."

"Right," Harry scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "As I've explained to Teddy numerous times since the attack in New York, just because we work for S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't mean we know everybody."

"Harry," the blond shook his head, "your naivety was refreshing at first, even a bit cute, but it needs to stop. I promised Teddy that because it's the easiest thing for me to do. I could have the Avenger out here tomorrow if I wanted."

"Sure," green eyes rolled sarcastically. "Let me guess, you've got them on speed dial?"

Without a word, Clint pulled his phone out of his pocket. Holding the other's gaze, he unlocked it and hit speed dial 2. He then put the device to his ear and waiting for it to connect.

~Hello?~ a confused female voice answered on the second ring. ~Everything okay?~

"Hey, Nat," he smirked. "Yeah, everything's fine. Look, I need you to assemble the team."

~You just said everything was fine.~

"It is," he reassured. "I'm just keeping a promise I made. Just get everyone to Ottery St. Catchpole Christmas morning, there's a little boy who'd really like to meet the Avengers, so make sure everyone's in full gear, except Banner. Oh, and bring mine, too."

~Okay,~ she agreed. ~You know Tony's going to throw a fit about it though. He planned a huge party for Christmas.~

"Like it'd be the first time he skipped out on one of his own parties. Anyway, see you in a couple days."

He clicked the phone off and placed it back in his pocket. He then looked back to the wizard, who looked unimpressed.

"So what?" he shook his head. "You called your roommate. Impressive."

"God, Harry, can you be any more dense?" Clint ran his hand through his hair. "Can you even name the Avengers?"

"Of course I can," the raven snapped. "There's Tony Stark's Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, Hulk, Black Widow, and… and… damn it… Hawkeye."

"You know, that's the second time you've forgotten Hawkeye, and it kinda hurts," the archer gave him a slightly wounded look.

"I don't see why that would hurt your feelings," Harry scowled. "I don't follow the Avengers. The only reason I know that much is because I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and I have an eight year old who idolizes them, especially Iron Man and Captain America, and he also has a strange affinity for Thor and Loki. I truthfully blame my dad, godfather, and the twins for the last one."

"Yeah, all that aside," he sighed, "how can you forget Hawkeye? He's been top agent at S.H.I.E.L.D. for longer than the Avenger Initiative has been around."

"Fan?" a dark brow rose incredulously.

"No, not really," Clint shook his head. "Though it is said you are your biggest fan."

"Or your worst enemy," the wizard countered. "So wait, you're saying you're Hawkeye?"

"The one and only," he held his hands up. "I actually thought you knew, until our conversation on the plane."

"Oh, god, I feel like a right idiot," Harry put his head in his hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have flown off the handle like that."

"Hey, it's okay," the blond put his hands on the shorter male's shoulders. "It happens. And as I said, it was kinda cute."

"You're just saying that," green eyes rose to meet blue.

"I don't say things I don't mean," he smiled slightly.

They stood there for a few minutes, before Clint lowered his head and caught the other man's lips with his own. Harry's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he registered what was happening and began to relax and kiss back.

* * *

Ammie: Okay, so there it is. The first kiss. Hopefully it won't be their last... mwahaha... Anyway, let me know what you think.


	8. Chapter 8

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: HAPPY NEW YEAR! Still not mine…

AN: Okay, so here's the latest chapter, a bit later than I wanted to post it today, but hey, better late than never. Anyway, this chapter feels like filler to me, but hey, whatever, sometimes it's needed. So without further ado, I give you the next installment of Je N'ai Pas De Mots…

Chapter 7

The following morning found Clint in the kitchen of the Burrow before anyone else. He had woken up early, which didn't surprise him, given the circumstances, and doing his best not to wake Harry, who had once again managed to invade his personal space, made his way out of the room and down the stairs. He had decided to start making something for breakfast, starting with a pot of coffee.

Once that was started, he began rummaging through the fridge, looking for something to make. Considering how many people were in the house, he was kind of surprised that there didn't seem to be an over abundance of foodstuff. Then again, he was used to cooking for the Avengers, and all of them could pack away anything edible. With that thought in mind, he pulled out some things to make omelets and set to work.

He had just finished making one for himself when he was joined by the lady of the house.

"Morning, Mrs. Weasley," he greeted from the stove. "Can I interest you in an omelet? And maybe some coffee? Or I boiled some water for tea, or in Harry's case some cocoa?"

"That's sweet, dear," she shook her head as she made her way over, "but I can manage this. Why don't you sit and eat?"

"I got this," he gently took her shoulders and guided her to a seat at the table. "I'm used to cooking for a crowd, and I'm sure you could use the break. So here," he grabbed the plate he'd made for himself and set it in front of her, as well as a cup of tea, "you eat up, and I won't hear another word about it."

Molly watched him for just a moment before picking up her fork and starting to eat. Her eyes widened slightly as she took the first bite.

"This is really good, Clint," she complimented.

"Thanks," he grinned as he plated the second omelet and took a seat across from her. "I try my best. And if my math is right, there should be enough for everyone."

"Oh, not to worry about that, dear," she flashed him a quick smile.

She then pulled her wand from the pocket of her dressing gown. She waved it at his untouched plate and a moment later a large platter appeared in the middle of the table, stacked high with at least two dozen steaming omelets. She waved the wand again and a faint haze settled over the food.

"Well, that's handy," the archer did his best to not tense up at the blatant use of magic. "If you don't mind my asking, what did you do?"

"It's a simply multiplying charm," she slipped her wand back into her pocket and picked up her fork again, "followed by a preservation charm to keep it fresh. They're simple household spells. Hasn't Harry used them before? He's quite good at them, which should be surprising considering he's a young man, but then again, with how he was raised, it's kind of not."

"Right," the blond nodded, not quite sure what she was talking about, but deciding to play it off. "But, uh, at home, Harry does things more, uh… well, uh, less magical. He just likes to do things the more mundane way."

"That sounds just like him," she shook her head, a faint smile danced across her face. "Anyway, why don't you finish up and then go spend some time with Harry? I'm sure you two don't get that much together, and this is your vacation. I can take care of things from here. And thank you, for making breakfast, it was a nice change."

"It wasn't a problem, Mrs. Weasley," he smiled.

"Oh, please, call me Molly," the redhead returned the smile. "Now run along."

"Alright, Molly," he pushed to his feet. "Before I go, if you don't mind, I'd like to take Harry some breakfast."

"Of course, dear," her expression softened, as she pulled her wand once more and quickly assembled a tray, and set it on the table in front of him. "I'm so glad Harry found you. You seem a decent fellow, and Harry needs someone like that."

"Thanks," the archer nodded, expertly picking up the tray. "We'll be down later."

"Just don't be too late, dear. The rest of us do want to spend time with the two of you as well."

He gave her a nod before leaving the kitchen and making his way upstairs. As he reached the room they were staying in, he balanced the tray on one hand and carefully opened the door as quietly as he could. His eyes took only a moment to adjust, and he was rather pleased to note that Harry was still sleeping, practically curled around Clint's pillow. He was just too cute, that Clint, even though he knew he shouldn't, Harry was his mission after all, set down the tray and made his way over to the bed.

He leaned over and gently prized the pillow out of the other's arms. The raven's face scrunched into a frown but he didn't wake up. The blond couldn't help but smile at the action. Almost without his conscious thought, he leaned in further and placed a kiss on the other man's lips.

Harry slowly came awake as he felt something soft press against his lips. Green eyes fluttered open to see Clint hovering over him, kissing him. He had just decided to reciprocate when the blond pulled away.

"Good morning," he said sleepily.

"Morning," the archer smiled. "I brought you breakfast."

"What's the occasion?" he propped himself up on his elbow.

"Well," Clint chuckled slightly, "considering I'm supposed to be on vacation with my fiancé, I figured I should play the part of doting boyfriend."

"Doting boyfriend, huh?" a dark brow rose curiously.

"Oh, definitely," the blond nodded, climbing onto the bed and mirroring the other's position.

"And what exactly would a doting boyfriend do?" he chuckled.

"Un-uh," Clint shook his head. "I don't believe that for a second. Anyone who went out with you would be nothing but doting."

"Right…" the raven shook his head. "Because everything about me just screams 'pay attention to me.'"

"Actually, yeah," blue eyes narrowed slightly into a frown. "Are you telling me you've had boyfriends in the past who didn't give you the attention you need or deserve?"

"Look, it's not like that," he huffed. "Besides, I don't _need_ attention."

"Oh yes, you do," the archer reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Harry's ear. "And anyone who didn't give it to you was an idiot."

A faint blush tinted the raven's cheeks, and Clint found himself once again unable to resist his innocent charm and leaned in to catch those lips in a heated kiss.

888

When the pair finally emerged from their room, showered and dressed, they found the majority of the Weasley family in the living room. Bill, Charlie, and the twins were still eating their breakfasts, having obviously had a bit of a lie in. Ron and Hermione were curled up on the end of the couch, the bushy haired witch's nose stuck in a book, as usual. Ginny, who was sitting in one of the armchairs, got up as soon as they entered the room and stormed past them, bumping hard into Harry's shoulder as she did.

"Ow," he rubbed his shoulder as he watched her disappear down the hall. "What's her problem?"

"Two words, mate, privacy spells," Ron said, turning as red as his hair.

The bespectacled man gave him a slightly confused look before it finally registered and he blushed as well, burying his face in his hands. The elder four brothers began chuckling at the younger two's discomfort, while Clint just watched with a small smirk adorning his features.

"Don't let it bother you too much, Harry," Bill shook his head. "We've all done it at least once. Anyway, what are the plans for the day? Dad's currently outside with the girls, and Mum and Fleur are in the kitchen, arguing about Christmas dinner. By the way, Clint, I don't know what you did, but congratulations, cause that's the first time in my life I've ever heard of Mum giving up control of the kitchen."

"Wait," Harry frowned at the archer, "Molly actually let you cook?"

"Oh, did I forget to mention that part?" Clint asked innocently. "Just because you cook most of the time, doesn't mean I don't know how. Besides, I work with Steve and Tony on a regular basis, you think I don't know how to handle stubborn people?"

"Well, you'd have to," Fred cut in.

"Your fiancé is Harry Potter," George continued.

"The man who's too stubborn to even die," they finished together.

"Enough," green eyes narrowed into a glare at the twin menaces. "Anyway," he decided to change the subject before any of his past adventures could come under scrutiny, "Clint, we should probably talk to Molly, if you're serious about company coming tomorrow."

"Right," the blond nodded.

Together the pair of them left the living room. As they passed the stairs, Clint caught Harry's arm, bringing them to a halt when they could talk with a bit of privacy.

"Too stubborn to die?" he asked curiously.

"The twins were just teasing," a hand ran agitatedly through raven locks. "Just, please pretend like you know what they're talking about if things like that come up again. Can we at least try to make it through these next two weeks?"

"I'm trying, Harry," the archer sighed, "but since I woke up this morning I've found out you were abused as a child, are too stubborn to die apparently, and that your real last name is Potter."

"I wasn't abused," Harry shook his head.

"Molly Weasley seems to think otherwise," Clint countered. "That aside, the problem here is that you didn't tell me any of this. You made sure I knew who most everyone who would be here was, except the one person I'm supposed to know the best: you. Now, I know you're not going to tell me everything, and I don't expect you to, but I need more. I can't keep going into this blind, otherwise this is going to fail."

"Fine," Harry gave a resigned sigh. "We can talk tonight. I'll answer whatever questions you have then. We just have to make it through today."

"Fine," the blond agreed. "But we will talk. Right now, let's ask Molly if it'd be okay for five more people to be here tomorrow."

They continued into the kitchen and informed Molly of the new development. She agreed with a beaming "the more the merrier," especially when Clint informed her it was a surprise for Teddy. The pair then went back to the living room where the Weasley boys had just started to play a game of Exploding Snap. They quickly explained the rules to the archer and dealt him and Harry in.

888

Shortly after lunch, once all the clean up was done and the girls had been taken upstairs by their parents for a nap, Molly came out to the living room with a basket on her arm. Her brown eyes sought out her youngest son.

"Ron," she held the basket out for him, "would you be a dear and take this to the Lovegoods for me?"

"But mum…" he whined slightly but took the basket anyway. "Why can't we just send it with Pig or Errol?"

"Ronald Weasley," his mother snapped. "The Lovegoods live less than five miles away, it will not kill you to take them their Christmas basket, but if you don't, I might."

"Come on, Ron," Harry got to his feet and began leading his best friend from the room, "I'll go with you. Besides, it's been awhile since I've seen Luna."

"Alright," the redhead gave in with a sigh.

The two of them made their way out of the house and took off up the road in the direction of the Lovegoods' house.

"So," Ron said as they walked, "wanna tell me what happened."

"What do you mean?" the bespectacled man frowned slightly.

"Well, first of all, you tell me that you're not really with this guy," he began ticking things off on his fingers. "Then yesterday, you were pissed at him. You didn't have to say anything," he shook his head at his friend's confused look, "I'm your best friend, I've known you for how many years now? I can tell. I'm actually surprised he survived the encounter. And then this morning you're shagging the guy. So what gives?"

"It's… getting complicated," he ran his hand through his hair. "You're right, I was furious with Clint yesterday. He promised something to Teddy that I couldn't follow through with. And I wasn't going to have him lie to Teddy."

"What? Did he promise he could meet the Avengers? I mean, it'd have to be something along those lines because that's the only thing he's asked for that you've ever denied him."

"That's exactly what he did," Harry sighed.

"But you don't know the Avengers!" was Ron's indignant reply. "What an ass! Why would he promise something like that?! Maybe it's because he won't be around to deal with the fallout. What are you gonna do? I mean, you've told anyone who asks that just because you work for S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't mean you know the Avengers."

"Well, apparently, that's not the case anymore," the raven shook his head. "I've apparently met three of them now: Captain America, Black Widow, and… Hawkeye."

"Whoa," the redhead stopped walking and stared at him in disbelief. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't know until last night when Clint told me."

"And how would he know who you've met?" Ron's brow rose in disbelief.

"Because he was there," the bespectacled man shrugged. "And he's Hawkeye. That's why he could make that promise. In fact, they're coming tomorrow."

"Damn, Harry," Ron shook his head. "Your luck though, mate."

"Tell me about it."

"So, anyway," he continued walking again, "how did this all progress to sex anyway? Not that it didn't help your cause, Mione and I found Ginny outside your door this morning. I think she was in shock."

"As I said, it's getting complicated," Harry shook his head. "After our discussion last night, he kissed me. And this morning just kind of happened. But we're both consenting adults, so it's not like it's a big deal."

"Hey, I'm not judging, mate," he held up his hands in defense. "I mean, I'm happy for you. I was just curious. Anyway, let's go see Luna."

888

As soon as the two friends left, all other occupants of the Burrow turned their attention on the archer. _Subtle_ , he thought, when he realized how well his supposed fiancé was played to get him out of the house. Well, if they wanted to interrogate him, he was ready.

"So, Clint," Arthur began, "how did you and Harry meet?"

"Well," the blond chuckled slightly, glad that Harry insisted they go over this, "we were at work, I was going to the mess, he was coming out and he dumped cocoa all over me. Anyway, I asked him out, to make up for it."

"Wait," George held up his hand. "You asked him out?"

"To make up for his spilling hot beverages on you?" Fred continued.

"That makes it seem…"

"…like you did it on purpose!" they finished together.

Clint threw his head back and laughed. A few of the others joined in.

"Ya know," he pulled himself together a bit, "to this day, he hasn't figured that out. I actually sought him out because my best friend was crushing on him. She told me and a couple of the guys about this cute little accountant she'd met. So we decided to check this guy out, make sure he was good enough for our Nat. Now, Nat may be the greatest spy in the world, but her gaydar sucks, so to spare her the humiliation of pursuing a gay guy, I graciously took him off the market. She's still sore about it."

"What do you do in S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Bill asked. "If you can tell us."

"I'm an agent, and that's about all I can say," the archer shook his head. "But the short of it is I protect the world from bad guys."

"Do you know the Avengers?" Fred piped up.

"More specifically, do you know Loki?" George cut in.

"I was warned about your obsession with him," blue eyes rolled slightly. "Loki was the bad guy, he's currently imprisoned on Asgard, but yes, I had the misfortune of meeting him."

"He's the god of mischief," George said, slightly scandalized.

"He's the greatest trickster in the world," Fred added.

"That's enough, you two," Molly snapped, clearly this was an ongoing argument.

"What's Harry's favorite color?" a voice asked from the doorway.

"Green," his gaze shifted to the youngest Weasley, hazarding a guess from what he'd seen in the younger man's suitcase.

"His favorite food?"

"Shepherd's pie," that he knew.

"Wrong," she smirked slightly, "its treacle tart."

"You said food, not dessert," he countered.

"What's his wand made out of?" she scowled at his dodge.

How the hell was he supposed to know that? He'd only seen the thing once. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione mouth something to him.

"Holly and the tail feather of a phoenix," he was so glad he was adept at reading lips.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley," Arthur frowned at his youngest, "if you can't be nice to our guest, then maybe it's time for you to go to your apartment in London. You are acting worse than a Malfoy, at least they pretend to have manners."

"I'm sorry, dad," she bowed her head, but Clint could tell she didn't mean it.

He wasn't quite sure what that was all about, but he really needed to have that talk with Harry. And he would definitely be keeping an eye on Ginny for the remainder of his stay.

* * *

Ammie: I know, I've taken too long to update this fic. In my defense, my muses wanted smut, but I found that I really can't write smut... so it got delayed. On that note, if anyone is interested in possibly writing one for this fic, just let me know if you do. Anyway, please let me know what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

AN: Okay, so this is very much a filler chapter. But after the last one I felt I should add it in. The next one will have the arrival of the Avengers. In the mean time, please enjoy my efforts.

Chapter 8

After the traditional Christmas Eve nightcap, Clint and Harry headed up to their room. The raven haired wizard didn't know exactly what would happen, but he was not looking forward to the conversation he knew they needed to have. Unbeknownst to him, similar thoughts were going through the archer's head. As soon as they closed the door, Harry pulled his wand and cast several privacy charms.

"So," he took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed, "I guess we should just get this over with."

"Okay," Clint nodded, taking the desk chair. "Before you start though, I want you to know, I'm not pushing you to tell me anything you don't want to, Harry."

"That's just it, Clint," he ran his hand through his hair agitatedly, "I don't want to tell you any of this. That's why I didn't. I changed my name and moved to the States to get away from all this. I'm a fucking accountant for crying out loud. But you were right earlier, if we're going to pull this off, you have to know."

"Alright," the blond held up his hands. "But just so you know, whatever you tell me won't change my opinion of you."

"Yeah, it will," the bespectacled man sighed. "Whether it's resentment or hero worship, those are the two I usually have to deal with, we'll see. Anyway, I guess I should start at the beginning. I'll give you a bit of a history lesson first, because it's actually important. Long before I was born, there was a wizard who went bad, a dark lord is what they're called in the Wizarding world. He called himself Lord Voldemort. He killed people he thought weren't worthy, namely anyone who didn't come from a long line of witches and wizards. He had followers, the whole deal.

"Anyway, there was a prophecy: _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives._

"There were two boys that fit the criteria, me and my friend Neville. But Voldemort picked me. I told you my parents died when I was a baby, but I didn't tell you they were murdered in an attempt to get to me."

"Then how did you survive?" he asked curiously.

"Please don't interrupt," Harry shook his head, "or I won't get through this. When my mother refused to step aside and let him kill me, her sacrifice protected me. His curse, which has no countercurse and should have killed me, rebounded on him. He couldn't die because he'd taken steps not to, so he became a shade, I guess would be the best way to describe it, and I was left with this," he shifted his bangs to reveal the lightning bolt scar. "From that moment on I was known as The Boy Who Lived, famous for something I didn't even remember.

"After that, I lived with my aunt and uncle, who hated anything abnormal, especially magic. I spent the next ten and a half years with them trying to squash the magic out of me.

"When I was eleven, I was accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That's when I met Ron and Hermione. Let's see, what things of note happened first year? I was placed in Gryffindor, one of the four houses of Hogwarts. I was made the Gryffindor Seeker, the youngest player in a century. I also got my first broom, a Nimbus Two Thousand.

"That year we thought one of our teachers was trying to steal a Sorcerer's Stone that was hidden in the school. We were right, we just had the wrong teacher. It was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, not our Potions professor. He was being possessed by Voldemort. I confronted him, got the Stone, killed Quirrell, and Voldemort fled.

"The summer before second year, a house elf named Dobby came and told me terrible things were going to happen at Hogwarts and tried to stop me from going back. He even made Ron and I miss the train, so we took his dad's flying car instead."

"Wait, a flying car?" Clint couldn't help but interrupt at that. "Stark would love to get his hands on that."

"Considering it's currently running wild in the forest at Hogwarts, I doubt he'll get a chance," he chuckled slightly. "Anyway, people started getting petrified at school. Turns out it was a basilisk, a giant snake, being controlled by the Heir of Slytherin, Voldemort. But it was only one of his horcruxes, a piece of his soul trapped in an object, really dark magic, that was possessing Ginny. I ended up going to the Chamber of Secrets, where the basilisk was being kept, and killing it and destroying the Horcrux, thus saving Ginny.

"So, we're up to my third year now."

"Hold on," the archer shook his head. "I don't need a year by year account, I just need the important details."

"Clint, these are the important details," Harry chuckled wryly. "Trust me, if I was telling you everything, we'd be at this for at least a week. So, back to my story. The summer before my third year a high level wizarding prisoner escaped from wizarding prison: Sirius Black."

"He was a wizard?"

"Yes. Now, please stop interrupting. So he escaped and everyone thought he was after me, because he was 'supposedly'" he made air quotes "one of Voldemort's top supporters. He was completely innocent and had really broken out to kill the guy who framed him, who was masquerading as Ron's rat. Well, Pettigrew, that was his name, got away, and Sirius had to go back on the run, with my and Hermione's help. That was also the year I met Teddy's dad, Remus Lupin. Oh, and Remus, Sirius, and Pettigrew were my dad's best friends growing up. And Sirius was my godfather.

"My fourth year, Hogwarts hosted the Triwizard Tournament. One student from three different magical schools were to compete in three dangerous tasks throughout the year. That's where I first met Fleur and Krum, they were the champions from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The students competing were supposed to be over the age of seventeen, only someone entered my name under a fourth school and I was forced to compete. I made it to the end with the other Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory. Only it was a trap. The Triwizard Cup was a portkey, a magical means of transportation, that took me and Cedric to a graveyard. When we got there Pettigrew killed Cedric right in front of me and then used my blood in a ritual to resurrect Voldemort. I ended up fighting him and managed to escape, taking Cedric's body back with me. I told everyone that Voldemort was back, but not everyone wanted to believe me, especially the Ministry.

"Which brings me to fifth year," he sighed. "Over the summer the Ministry had started a smear campaign against me and Dumbledore, the headmaster. They even tried to have me expelled, but that didn't work. Anyway, the Minister decided to send in a spy, I guess you could call her, to Hogwarts to make sure Dumbledore wasn't creating an army and that we didn't learn shit. She was a real piece of work. She, uh, inflicted this on me," he held up his right hand to reveal a faint scar, reading 'I must not tell lies.'

"How did she manage that?" Clint frowned, taking his hand and tracing the faint words.

"Detentions, lines, and a blood quill," he blushed slightly, but shook his head to bring his thoughts back to the story and away from the fingers caressing his hand. "Anyway, we… okay, it was Hermione's idea that we form a defense group so we could still learn. She ended up catching us later in the year and used it as an excuse to take over the school. On top of all that, Voldemort had been sending me visions all year, one of them was an attack on Arthur right before Christmas, I managed to save his life. But at the end of the year, he sent me one of Sirius. He had him in the Ministry and was torturing him. I panicked and headed to the Ministry with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and a couple others to rescue him. Only it was a trick so I'd get the prophecy for him, he didn't have Sirius. We fought the Death Eaters and were losing when the Order of the Phoenix showed up, including Sirius. Sirius died in that fight," he took a shuddering breath and hastily wiped his eyes to keep the tears from falling. "Anyway, I chased down his killer, but didn't get her because Voldemort arrived. I fought him for a minute but was losing, then Dumbledore showed up and took over. After their epic battle, the Ministry officials showed up and saw Voldemort, so they had to accept he was back.

"So sixth year," he shook his head, "Dumbledore told me about horcruxes, and how Voldemort had made seven of them."

"Soul pieces, right?" the blond clarified.

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"And he made seven of them?" he shook his head. "That sounds painful."

"I wouldn't know, it's dark, evil magic," he rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Anyway, we're almost done, so please let me finish. So out of the seven, two were already destroyed: The diary, and a ring Dumbledore had found over the summer. He didn't know exactly what the others were but he was pretty sure one was Voldemort's snake, Nagini. By the end of the year, he had figured out the location of where one of them was hidden. While he were gone, Draco, who I had suspected of being a Death Eater all year, turned out to be one and let others into the castle. When we got back, the Death Eaters were waiting. Dumbledore hid me, and was then killed by Snape.

"The Horcrux we'd found was actually a fake, so Ron, Hermione, and I decided to not go back to Hogwarts the next year and focus on finding the remaining horcruxes. The first one we figured out was the one that Dumbledore thought he had found. We had to break into the Ministry of Magic to get that one. We got it, but didn't have a way to destroy it. So we set out on the road to find more and a way to destroy them. After months and a near miss with Voldemort, we finally found out how to destroy it. Ron took care of that one.

"A couple months later, with still no leads on where to find more, even though we now had the means to destroy them, we were captured. We managed to escape with Dobby's help, and also a possible lead on another Horcrux. We broke into Gringotts, the wizarding bank and one of the most secure places in Britain, to get it. We managed, but in the process lost our way to destroy it. As we escaped, I figured out where the next one was. At the same time, Voldemort realized what we were up to and it became a race to Hogwarts. We got there and the final battle started. I realized exactly where the Horcrux was hidden and it kinda was destroyed by accident."

"Hold on," the archer held up his hand, "how could it be destroyed by accident, if you had to have something special to destroy the others?"

"To destroy a Horcrux," Harry sighed, "you have to destroy the object beyond repair. Because of the magic involved in their creation, it takes a lot to destroy them. My friends and I used basilisk venom, which there is no cure for, except phoenix tears, and those are really rare, but that one was destroyed with fiendfyre, a highly destructive, powerful flame, which once cast is pretty much uncontrollable, even to the one who cast it."

"Got it," Clint nodded. "So aside from the snake, which I'm assuming is with Voldemort, there's one Horcrux left, right?"

"Yeah," the raven chuckled wryly. "Anyway, the battle continued, people were dying all over, including Teddy's parents, Remus and Tonks. Then I found out from Snape, who was really a spy for Dumbledore all along, that I was the last Horcrux. Voldemort didn't know this and called me out. I went and I let him kill me. I died, but I was given the choice to come back and I did. I faced him again and I won, because Neville killed Nagini while I was pretending to be dead. With that the battle was over, the war was won, and I was once again hailed as a hero, hell, I was even knighted by the queen. But I was so tired to being the Great Harry Potter, the one everyone relied on to solve all their problems, so I said fuck it, changed my name to Black, got my accounting degree, and joined S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Wow," the blond shook his head and moved over to sit beside the other, and slid his arm around his shoulders. "Just wow. And you accomplished all that by seventeen? I don't blame you for wanting out, that's a lot to have on your shoulders at that age, any age really. Though, I'm surprised Fury didn't try to recruit you for the Avengers."

"Oh, he did," he shook his head. "I turned him down. Why do you think I work in accounting? Nobody looks twice at a number puncher."

"Fair enough," Clint conceded, if it hadn't been for Nat, he wouldn't have. "Though in all this, you didn't say what your wand is made out of."

"Why would I tell you what my wands are made out of?" a dark brow rose incredulously.

"Ginny seemed to think I should know that information during my interrogation earlier today," he shrugged. "Thanks to Hermione and my ability to read lips, I got it right. But you just said wands. You have more than one?"

"I have three," Harry frowned. "Everyone knows about the holly and phoenix feather one; four other people know about the second: hawthorn and unicorn hair; and then only two other people, and now you, even know I have a third one, and I will not tell you what that one is, not just for my protection but yours as well. As it is, two too many people know already. And unless you were interested in wandlore or wand making that would've never come up in any conversation."

"So that's not even a common topic among wizards?"

"No, it's not," he shook his head. "I only know a handful of others besides my own: Ron, because he's my best friend and I've been there every time he breaks one; Hermione, because I had to use hers while we were Horcrux hunting; Fleur and Krum, because we were in the Triwizard Tournament together and had our wands examined in front of each other; and Neville, because his broke in the Ministry at the end of fifth year and he showed off his new one at the beginning of sixth. I don't even know what Ginny's is made of, so her asking that is kind of odd. Anyway, I'm exhausted, and if I know Teddy at all, we'll be woken up at the crack of dawn so we can go downstairs and open presents. With that being said, goodnight Clint."

"Goodnight, Harry," the archer leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead. "And thank you for telling me all this."

* * *

Ammie: Alright, there it is. As I said, the next chapter is when the Avengers show up, also it's Christmas. On that note, if anyone has any ideas for present ideas for anyone present, including Clint, Harry, and Teddy, I will take suggestions. The only thing I know for sure right now is that Clint is getting a Weasley sweater in purple, not even sure of the design on it yet. Anyway, any help would be appreciated, and also please let me know what you think.


	10. Chapter 10

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

AN: So I've wanted to say this for awhile: It's Christmas in July! (Though thankfully without the snow) Anyway, here's the next chapter for Je N'ai Pas De Mots. It's kinda short, but I cut it here because otherwise it would be really long. Hopefully, the next chapter won't take so long. So, Happy Independence Day, if you celebrate it. And this chapter is dedicated to Demoness Simi, since she was the one who wanted me to work on this fic.

Chapter 9

Clint hardly slept that night, even though he didn't doubt Harry's prediction of an early morning. The wizard's story had given him a lot to think about and process. He now had quite a bit to report to Fury, and it would probably answer all his questions, and also make him want to recruit the wizard into the Avengers again. But the blond wasn't going to have anything to do with that. On another, more personal, aspect, he could possibly pursue a relationship with the accountant without worrying about him being able to handle himself.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only thing keeping him awake. Harry's trip down memory lane wasn't doing the raven any favors. He was tossing and turning, obviously caught in the thrall of numerous nightmares. He never woke up, but each and every time it seemed to be getting too much the archer would pull him close and rub his back in soothing circles.

It was the wee hours of the morning when Harry finally seemed to settle into a more peaceful sleep, allowing Clint to catch his own. It felt like he had just closed his eyes when he was startled awake by the door slamming open and a small person sized projectile rocketing into the room. He barely managed to catch the bundle of energy as it launched itself onto the bed, before it landed on him and Harry.

"Uncle Harry! Uncle Harry!" Teddy's excited voice filled the room. "Time to wake up, Uncle Harry! It's Christmas!"

"Good morning, Teddy," one green eye cracked open and peered at the child still secured in the archer's arms. "Why don't you go downstairs and help Molly set the table, while Clint and I get dressed? You know we have to eat before we get presents."

"But it's Christmas," Teddy pouted slightly, "you're supposed to wear jammies on Christmas. I'm wearing jammies. Grandma's not wearing jammies, but Molly is. So just wear your jammies, and let's go."

"But Clint doesn't wear jammies," Harry answered automatically. "I mean, I don't wear…" he rubbed his eyes as he tried to cover. "Teddy, please just go downstairs."

"Go on, kiddo," the blond set the boy on his feet. "Harry and I will be downstairs in a minute."

"Okay," he turned and trotted happily out the door.

"Nice save, Harry," Clint sat up, his sweat pants hanging dangerously low on his hips from sleeping in them all night.

The raven fumbled slightly for his glasses, mildly distracted by the other's bare chest. He slid the glasses on as the archer made his way over to his bag and pulled out a t-shirt. The wizard pouted slightly as the material hindered his ogling.

"So," the blond turned around, and the green gaze shifted hastily away, "I've got a few calls to make before our guests arrive. I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast, if it doesn't take too long. But I'll definitely be there for the presents. Though, you should probably get dressed," his own gaze raked over the other's naked chest. "Your godson is waiting for you."

He slipped on his shoes and grabbed his coat and cell before heading out of the room. He made his way down the stairs and toward the back door. He waved vaguely at the rather large crowd that was gathered in the kitchen, considering the hour, and went outside.

He shivered slightly as the cold air hit him. He pulled his coat on and zipped it, before lifting the phone and hitting speed dial one.

~This had better be good, Barton,~ his superior's voice snapped after the third ring.

"Sorry, didn't remember the time difference," the archer scratched the back of his neck.

~Get to the point, Barton.~

"Right," Clint took a deep breath. "Target is Harry Potter. Originally from England. Attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He defeated an evil wizard at seventeen. After that, he changed his name, got his accounting degree, and joined S.H.I.E.L.D."

~Good work, Agent,~ Fury acknowledged. ~I want you to pull back and return to headquarters. Do not engage. I repeat, do not engage.~

With that the line went dead. The blond chuckled wryly. It was a bit late for that, but what Fury didn't know couldn't hurt him.

He shook his head and made the other call.

~Hey, Birdman,~ the cheery voice of Tony Stark answered, not who he called. ~What's up?~

"Why are you answering Nat's phone, Stark?" he frowned.

~You're on speaker, Clint,~ his best friend sighed, and he could just picture her rolling her eyes.

"I guess that's good," he shook his head. "I need to explain a few things to everyone before you get here. When are you getting here anyway?"

~We should be there in about an hour,~ Natasha replied.

"Okay, that's good," he smiled faintly. "Anyway, before you get here you need to know that magic is real. Harry is a wizard, as are the rest of the people here. So try not to act too surprised if you see something strange."

~That's why that name sounded familiar,~ Banner cut in. ~I can take it from here, Clint. You go back and do your thing. We'll see you soon.~

"Alright, Doc," he gave the phone a funny look. "See ya in a bit."

He ended the call and made his way back into the house.

888

As soon as the call ended, all eyes turned expectantly to the scientist. Bruce ran his hand through his hair and let out a long sigh as he thought about where to start.

"Well, Banner," Tony prompted, "you said you'd explain. Explain."

"I'm getting there, Stark," brown eyes rolled in exasperation. "Okay, so I only know about this because shortly after the Other Guy was… created, I went around the globe searching for a cure. My travels took me to Wizarding Britain. As Barton said, magic is real."

"Of course magic is real," Thor cut in with a frown. "You all witnessed Loki's powers. It is not something isolated to Asgard. The ability is found throughout the nine realms, though the use of it varies from place to place. What you call science and magic are one and the same on Asgard."

"Great, we get it," the billionaire waved the blond off. "Magic, science, same thing and it exists everywhere. Please continue, Banner. How do you know about magic, and how do you know Legolas' wizard?"

"Right," he shook his head. "Anyway, the Wizarding communities keep themselves hidden, for obvious reasons, Salem, and the Spanish Inquisition being among the top ones. I stumbled upon the one in Britain. I was desperate at that time and tried everything: Potions, spells, anything they could throw at me. Nothing worked. And while I did not find a cure, I did fine some solace there. I met a man with a similar condition, Remus Lupin. And while lycanthropy is not exactly the same, we did share some commonalities."

"Whoa, whoa, hold up," Tony stared incredulously at his fellow scientist. "You're saying werewolves exist?"

"After everything we've seen," Steve shook his head, "you're getting hung up on werewolves?"

"Look, guys, let's just get on with the story," Natasha sighed. "Bruce, how do you know Harry?"

"I never actually met Harry," he rubbed his neck, "but Remus knew him. Over the course of the time we knew each other, we became friends and we talked of other things besides our conditions. One of his favorite topics was Harry Potter, the son of one of his best friends and a former student on his when he taught at the wizarding school for a year before he was ousted as a werewolf. From what he told me, Harry was a good kid, bright, and really powerful magically, with too much of a burden placed on his young shoulders. And that's really all I know. So, as Barton said, don't react too strongly to anything you see there, especially if we're going to help him keep his cover."

"Damn," Tony whistled softly. "I really can't wait to meet this guy."

888

Clint grabbed himself a plate and followed everyone to the living room. Apparently, it had been the children's idea as a few of the other adults were also taking their breakfast with them. He took a seat next to Harry on the couch as Mr. Weasley took a seat on the floor next to the tree.

The children made rather quick work of their gifts, even with all the structure the Weasley patriarch had laid out for them. The adults took a bit more time in opening theirs. Clint watched it all with fond, if not a bit detached, amusement, until a rather large squashy package was placed on his lap. The blue gaze dropped to the present in mild disbelief.

"It won't bite," Harry chuckled from beside him, as he was handed a similar package. "Just open it."

Tearing his gaze away from the younger male, he ripped open the wrapping. Inside was a dark purple sweater, and once he pulled it out, he noticed it had a black bow with a single arrow crossing the front. He stared at it. He could tell, just by the feel of it, that it was handmade. Never in his life had he received something like this.

"I hope you like it," Molly smiled at him. "It was last minute, and Harry was the one to suggest the design."

"It's great, Molly, really," he cleared his throat slightly to hide his true emotional state. "Thank you."

It didn't take much longer after that for the rest of the presents to be opened, with Clint receiving a few more odds and ends from various others in the family. After the Weasley matriarch had magically vanished the mess, the archer clapped his hands together and pushed to his feet, drawing all attention to himself.

"So, Teddy," he addressed the boy specifically, "my present for you is going to be outside. So, why don't we all," he waved his hands to incorporate all those assembled, "get dressed and get our coats on so we can see what it is?"

"Really?" the metamorphmagus bounded over and threw his arms around the blond. "You're the best, Uncle Clint!"

"You don't even know what it is yet," his godfather shook his head indulgently. "Go get dressed, Teddy."

With that, everyone dispersed to get ready to go outside. Within fifteen minutes, they were all assembled in the backyard, everyone curious about what this surprise could possibly be. The children were all gathered around the archer, jumping around excitedly, as he kept glancing to the sky.

"Teddy seems pretty excited by this," Hermione commented as she and Ron went over to stand beside Harry. "Does he know what it is?"

"No," the raven shook his head. "He's just being Teddy."

"But you know what it is," the bushy haired witch frowned.

"Yeah," Harry chuckled. "I was there when he set it up."

"You mean when you helped him set it up?" she countered.

"No," he shook his head. "Clint set this up all on his own."

"Yeah," Ron scoffed. "Harry wouldn't even dream of setting this up."

"Wait, you know what it is?" his wife asked incredulously.

"Yeah, Harry told me yesterday on the way to the Lovegoods," he shrugged.

"Well?" she demanded impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hush, both of you," Harry cut in. "You're going to ruin the surprise."

With that being said, he raised his gaze to the sky and shielded his eyes with his hand, as the whine of a large engine filled the air. Everyone else looked up as well, their expressions awed as they watched a large grey plane settle into the empty field next to the house.

As soon as the quinjet was settled, Clint picked up Teddy and trotted over. He reached it just as the gangplank lowered and the occupants began filing out.

"IT'S THE AVENGERS!" Teddy's excited squeal echoed through the silence that had fallen. "YOU BROUGHT ME THE AVENGERS! THANK YOU, UNCLE CLINT!"

* * *

Ammie: So the Avengers have finally arrived. Let the chaos ensue. Anyway, I think that's all I have to say for once, so please let me know what you think.


	11. Chapter 11

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: Still own nothing

AN: Okay, so NaNo is upon us once again. I'm trying to work on this fic for the month, and hopefully get it finished. (Fingers crossed) This is what I've got so far, and since the chapter is now finished, I'm keeping it with my new schedule and posting it. Hope ya'll enjoy.

Chapter 10

Clint chuckled as he set the boy on the ground and greeted his friends. Once that was done, he turned his attention back to the excited eight year old.

"Teddy," he put his arm around the boy's shoulders, "I'd like you to meet my good friends: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, and Thor. Guys, this is Harry's godson, Teddy Lupin."

"Iron Man, Captain America," Teddy pointed at each one, "Black Widow, Hulk, but Uncle Clint," his currently brown eyes turned to the archer, "where's Hawkeye?"

The blond threw his head back and laughed. His gaze drifted over to the bespectacled man for just a moment. It seemed his godson knew the Avengers better than he did.

"You're lookin' at him, kid," he ruffled the blue spikes affectionately. "Sorry I didn't tell ya before, would've ruined the surprise. Anyway, what'd ya say we introduce these guys to everybody else?"

The boy nodded and the group made their way over to the house. Once the introductions were made all around, they split up into smaller groups. The twins pulled Thor aside and began bombarding the Asgardian with questions about his brother, much to the God of Thunder's amusement. The good captain and Charlie took the children and began building snowmen in the yard. After a few minutes conversation, Arthur dragged Tony and Bruce off to his shed, probably to question the two scientists on all things Muggle.

"Well," Harry said as he reached the archer's side, "I have to say, I'm impressed."

"You should be," the blond grinned, slipping his arm around the other's waist. "I personally pulled Tony Stark away from a Christmas party he was throwing with the Avengers as the guests of honor. So yeah, it's really impressive."

"As I said, I'm impressed," he chuckled. "Though I don't know how anyone can top this, ever. You have to remember that with gift giving, you can't go completely over the top, otherwise the recipient will expect it every time."

"True," Clint smirked. "Though next year we could always arrange for him to meet the X-men."

"You don't know the X-men," the raven scoffed. "Do you?"

"You're right, I don't," the archer conceded. "But I'm sure there's someone we know who knows them. I mean, there's Fury and Hill, who know everything, and then there's Coulson, who has his fingers in almost every pie."

"Wait, Coulson?" green eyes turned incredulously to the other. "Didn't Phil Coulson die on the Helicarrier during Loki's attack?"

"Right, that was the general announcement," the blond shook his head. "But since you have level seven clearance, it's okay for you to know. Fury and Coulson staged his death to motivate the Avengers. He's alive and well, just very secret."

"I see," Harry frowned. "Wait, how do you know I have level seven clearance? I didn't even know I have level seven clearance. I shouldn't have level seven clearance, I'm a fucking accountant for crying out loud."

"That last bit is actually why it got brought up," the archer flinched slightly, he really shouldn't have said anything about that if he wanted to keep his cover. "When I went up to Fury's office to ask for the time off, he, Nat, and Cap were discussing this very issue. You see, whenever any of the Avengers are in the training room, it's automatically sealed against anyone below level six clearance. So you see, it was kinda weird for an accountant to barge in on us."

"Yeah, I think I'm beginning to," the frown deepened. "Damn it, that means I'm on Fury's radar now. I thought I had been pretty clever hiding right beneath his nose."

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Clint gave him a reassuring squeeze. "You're an accountant now. I'm sure Fury will be over it before we get back from our trip."

"Somehow, I don't believe you, but," he leaned into the other's embrace, "there's nothing I can do about it now. So I'll worry about it when I get back."

"Sounds like a plan," the archer grinned, that had been close. "Why don't we go join the others?" He guided the little raven over to his best friend. "You remember Nat, right?"

"How could I forget?" Harry smiled at the female Avenger. "It's nice to see you again, Nat."

"It's good to see you too, Harry," she pulled him into a hug and out of Clint's hold. "So, have you finally gotten tired of this loser," she jabbed her thumb in the blond's direction, "and decided to run away with me instead?"

"I'm sorry, Nat, I can't," he laughed good-naturedly. "You're just not my type. Besides, I don't think I could ever get tired of Clint."

"It's because I'm a female, isn't it?" she pouted.

"No," he shook his head seriously. "It's because you're a redhead."

"What?!" she sputtered, as the remaining Weasleys turned incredulous stares on him.

"I'm just not attracted to redheads," he shrugged. "Look around, this is the closest thing I have to a family. Aside from Andromeda, Hermione, Fleur, and Dominique, they're all redheads. On top of that, my mother was a redhead. I would never date anyone who thought they had to compare to anyone, living or dead. So yeah, I'm not romantically attracted to redheads."

"So, if I dyed my hair, I'd have a chance?" a single brow rose curiously.

"Well," he hedged, "then you'd still have to compete with Clint. And considering he's your best friend, I hope you wouldn't do that. I mean, even Ron was willing to be happy for Mione and me when he thought we had a thing."

"Yeah, Nat, back off my fiancé," the blond pulled Harry back into his arms. "Can't you just be happy for us?"

"Fine," she crossed her arms over her chest. "I am happy for you. Though, Harry, if you do ever decide to leave his ass, you know who to call."

"I'll keep that in mind, Nat," he laughed. "But don't hold your breath."

Before anything else could be said, a snowball collided with Clint's bicep, covering both him and Harry in the icy powder. All eyes turned in the direction the projectile had come from, only to spot a laughing Teddy and Steve. When the pair noticed the attention they were now getting, the little boy immediately sobered and pointed at the man out of time.

"He made me do it!"

"Oh, you are so dead Cap," the blond released Harry and leaned over and began packing his own snowball. "You picked a fight with the wrong man. Come on, Nat, let's get him."

The other assassin nodded and together they began attacking the captain.

"Oh, no," Harry protested, getting his own projectile, "you can't just let Teddy get away with that!"

As soon as he realized his godfather's intent, the little metamorphmagus took off running. He zigzagged between the other people scattered throughout the yard, finally coming to a stop between Thor and the twins, trying to use them as a shield. Harry, however, was not deterred and let the snowball fly. Unfortunately, his aim was off and he ended up hitting Thor in the back.

Blue eyes turned to stare incredulously at the wizard, unsure why he had been attacked. Harry met the gaze steadily. It was never said that the Boy-Who-Lived backed down from a fight, even when he knew he should have. So he squared his shoulders and tilted his head in silent challenge as if to say 'What are you going to do about it?'

Thor looked between the boy and the accountant for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Finally, a grin split his face as he leaned down and began gathering the snow in front of him into a large ball. Harry, sensing the danger he had put himself in, took off in the opposite direction.

Before long, it was all out war. Unofficial teams were formed, and the yard was soon filled with flying snowballs. Molly and Andromeda ducked out immediately and headed into the house to begin making lunch. The battle continued, with no clear signs of a winner, until the Weasley matriarch called everyone inside to clean up for lunch.

As everyone trooped inside, amid friendly banter and laughter, Clint came up behind Harry and enveloped him in his arms. The bespectacled man leaned back into the other's chest as they continued toward the house, a contented smile gracing his features. At moments like this, he could almost forget that this was all just an act.

"That was fun," the archer nuzzled the other's hair.

"It was," Harry agreed. "Maybe after lunch, we can teach you guys some Quidditch."

"Or," he pulled the smaller male to a stop and flipped him around, "you and I could sneak away for a while. Have a private little Christmas party of our own."

"As fun as that sounds," the raven chuckled, "there are a lot of people to sneak around here. I doubt we'd be able to pull it off, especially since part of this group is here to specifically see you."

"Is that a challenge, Mr. Black?" a blond brow rose curiously. "And for your information, the Avengers are here for Teddy."

"Right," Harry shook his head. "Anyway, we should get some lunch. We can figure out what to do afterward."

"Yeah, yeah," Clint pulled him closer and placed a quick, but relatively deep kiss on his lips.

They separated rather reluctantly and entered the kitchen. The meal was set up in a loose buffet style where everyone could fill their plates and then spread out throughout the rest of the house, with the exception of the children, Molly, Andromeda, and Fleur who were sat around the kitchen table. The pair filled their plates and headed toward the crowded living room.

Before he could make it to the other room, Clint found his progress stopped by a hand on his arm. Blue eyes rose and met the brown of his best friend. His fellow assassin gave a subtle toss of her head up the stairs, indicating he should follow her. With a resigned, barely audible sigh, he motioned for her to precede him up the stairs.

They came to a stop on the third landing, the redhead deeming it far enough away from listening ears.

"So," Clint leaned against the banister and started on his food, "what's up, Nat?"

"I think you're getting in too deep, Clint," she turned and leaned against the wall opposite him, balancing her own plate so she could eat as well.

"Nat," he gave her a pointed look, "not really your business."

"Look, Clint, I'm your best friend," she held up her fork in a form of surrender, "and I'm only looking out for you. I'm not saying that Harry's isn't a great guy, and not worth pursuing. Hell, I wanted to date him. But you're losing focus here. You have a mission to find out who he really is. A mission, I might add, that you took on yourself. You could've passed it on to someone else, but you didn't."

"I got the information Fury wanted," he sighed heavily. "I gave it to him this morning. In fact, he told me to back off. But guess what, I can't. More to the point, I don't want to. You're right, Harry is a great guy, and I'd really like to see where this goes. God, can't you just be happy for me?"

"It's not that I'm not happy for you, Clint," she let out a faint growl of frustration. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Need I remind you that you are only pretending to be his fiancé because he asked you to help keep a girl off his back?"

"I haven't forgotten, Nat," he rubbed his forehead. "He's even paying me for being here. But," he held up his hand to forestall her protests, "I'm hoping, that by the time we return to D.C. next week, he'll forget and that maybe he'll want to be with me."

"Oh, Clint," she shook her head, a faint smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, "you are hopeless. Fine, I'll back off. I just care about you, you know. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But if this is what you want, I'm behind you one hundred percent, you know that. Even if you did steal that sexy little accountant from me."

"Thanks, Nat," he smiled. "And for the record, you never stood a chance. He said so himself."

The two assassins dissolved into quiet, companionable laughter before heading back down to rejoin the rest of the party. As they descended the rickety stairs, neither of them noticed the door where they had been standing slip open or a figure emerge on the landing.

* * *

Ammie: Okay, so we're getting to the point in the fic that started this whole thing to begin with, hopefully, if they don't run away from me again, it will be next chapter. Anyway, please let me know what you think.


	12. Chapter 12

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: Is this really necessary at this point….

AN: Okay, so this chapter is what has been driving me through the whole story. And from here on out, there's only a couple more chapters left. With that being said, let's move on.

Chapter 11

Harry was mildly surprised when he entered the living room and Clint wasn't still behind him. He shrugged it off though, it was possible the archer had to use the loo or something. What actually surprised him more was how few people were in the living room. The twins were still engaged in their interrogation of Thor, who was still humoring them for some unknown reason. Hermione and Ron were sharing a couch with Steve, all three of them talking animatedly about something or other that he couldn't keep up with. The only other person in the room was Bruce, who was sitting in Mr. Weasley's normal seat, eating quietly.

He shrugged off the seeming oddity of the missing people, they were around somewhere, probably just upstairs to have more space, and took a seat in Mrs. Weasley's chair. He had just started eating when he noticed the good doctor didn't really seem interested in his own food.

"Everything okay, Dr. Banner?" he asked quietly, leaning over the arm of the chair to keep them from being overheard. "You seem a bit distracted."

"What?" brown eyes rose to meet green. "No. Um, I actually wanted to talk to you."

"T-to me?" the raven stuttered, taken aback. "About what?"

"Teddy, actually," he shook his head. "His last name's Lupin, right?" At Harry's confused nod, he continued. "From what I understand, that's not a common name. He wouldn't happen to be related to Remus Lupin, would he?"

"Remus was his father," Harry frowned. "Did you know him? Wait, that's a stupid question. You know his name, of course you did. So, how did you know him?"

"I met him several years ago, after my accident," the doctor explained. "I was kinda looking for a cure for… the other guy. Remus and I kinda hit it off because of our similar conditions. I haven't heard from him in years. I was kind of hoping to get back in touch with him."

"I'm sorry," the younger male sighed heavily. "Remus died years ago, shortly after Teddy was born. There… there was a fight, he and his wife didn't make it."

"I'm so sorry," Bruce rubbed his eyes. "Remus was a good man, and he always spoke very highly of you."

"He was a good man," Harry agreed. "I can't say he ever spoke of you, but it is nice to know he had some friends out there."

"Yeah," he ran his hands through his hair. "Anyway, do you think it'd be okay if I talked to Teddy about him?"

"I think that would be great, Dr. Banner," he smiled. "All of us here knew Remus and Tonks, and we try to tell him stories all the time. I think it'd be good for him to hear something new, especially from one of his favorite superheroes."

"The Hulk is no hero," Bruce shook his head. "He was helpful once, let's not make it more than that."

"Look, Bruce," Harry chuckled wryly, finally dropping the other's title, "let me share something with you that I've learned over the years, first in my dealings with Remus and others like the two of you. You and the Hulk, just like Remus and the wolf, are two sides of the same coin. Remus learned to control the wolf at a young age, with the help of his friends. When he lost his friends, he lost his way and lost that control. He never tried again, so he never regained control."

"So you're saying I can have control when the Hulk takes over?" a thoughtful frown crossed the doctor's face.

"In a way," the wizard nodded. "I'll give you another example: the werewolf that bit both Remus and Bill."

"Wait, Bill's a werewolf?" he pointed in the direction of the stairs, presumably where the eldest Weasley child was.

"No, he doesn't transform because he wasn't bitten on the full moon. He just has some 'wolfish' tendencies. I mean, Bill's a good example too, but I'm gonna stick with Fenrir Greyback. He took it in the opposite direction so that the wolf overrode his humanity so that he was lethal even when it wasn't the full moon. But those are total opposite ends of the spectrum. What you need to do is come to a happy medium between you and the Hulk. You have disassociated yourself from him, but he is you. You need to work this out with yourself, because you are two halves of the same whole. And if you worked that out with yourself, you could be the greatest superhero ever. Think about it, the brains of Dr. Banner with the strength of the Hulk, you'd be pretty unstoppable. Come to think of it, that could be used for evil. So, now that I've said all that, I'm gonna have to keep an eye on you, make sure you don't go rogue."

"You're all right, Harry," Bruce laughed. "I can't guarantee it'll work, but I'll definitely keep that in mind."

"Any time, Bruce," he smiled. "And if you feel like you need some help, I do know a thing or two about having unwanted forces in your head."

Brown eyes looked at him in confusion, but the bespectacled man's attention had been drawn to the entrance of the room, where the two assassins had just walked in. The scientist couldn't help the small smile that crossed his features as the green eyes lit up at the appearance of the archer. This may have started out as a ruse between the two of them, but they were both starting to fall hard, and for real.

"Hey," Clint greeted as he perched himself on the arm of Harry's seat. "Sorry I disappeared. Did you miss me?"

"You were barely gone for half an hour," green eyes rolled in fond annoyance. "So no, I didn't miss you. Besides, I was having a nice conversation with Bruce here."

"Oh, Bruce, is it?" a blond brow rose curiously, as he turned to regard the scientist. "Should I be worried? Do I need to arrange an accident for the good doctor here?"

"What, you gonna get all jealous boyfriend on me now?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Do I need to?" an arm snaked around the raven's shoulders.

"Bruce and I were just talking about Remus," the bespectacled man shook his head. "Apparently, Bruce knew Remus and wanted to talk to Teddy."

"I see," he nodded. "So, I was thinking," he leaned in and whispered in Harry's ear, "maybe you and I could slip out to the quinjet, have that little party I was talking about?"

"You are shameless," the wizard scoffed, just as quietly. "But I guess I could meet you out there in about twenty minutes."

"Great," the archer beamed, placing a quick kiss on the top of Harry's head. "Don't be late."

With that he got up and disappeared back into the kitchen with his empty plate. The raven took the time to finish his own food before getting up and following after the blond. He had just placed his plate in the sink and slipped out the back door when someone grabbed his arm. His gaze turned to the person, only to barely stifle a groan as he registered who exactly it was that was stalling him.

"What do you want, Ginny?" he managed to keep his voice civil.

"Harry, we need to talk," she gave a small tug on his arm.

"No, we really don't," he gave a long suffering sigh.

"He's spying on you, Harry," she blurted out.

"What are you talking about?" green eyes narrowed into a glare.

"Clint, he's spying on you."

"You've stooped to some interesting levels before," he jerked out of her hold, "but this is a new low, even for you."

"It's true," she insisted. "I just heard him talking with that lady in the Avengers. They were saying you were a mission and that he had already reported everything back to Fury."

"You're lying," he frowned. "You would say anything to get me to break up with him. You just can't stand the fact that I chose him over you."

"Harry," she said cajolingly, "this isn't about that."

"Just leave me alone, Ginny," he turned and began making his way to the quinjet.

"You don't have to take my word for it," she called after him, "just ask him, Harry. Or better yet, check his phone. I heard him talking to Fury just this morning."

He shook his head and picked up his pace. He really didn't want to believe her, she was desperate after all, but he couldn't stop the niggling doubt that had taken root in the back of his mind at her accusations. What if Clint was spying on him for Fury? He did know about his classification level after all. And what if the director had asked him to get information on him? Harry Black didn't have much of a history after all, and that would definitely make the master spy suspicious.

He shook his head again. He would just ask the archer as soon as he got to the quinjet. Then he could put this whole matter behind him once and for all.

"Hey," the blond greeted as soon as he cleared the gangplank. "I was starting to get worried."

"Oh, sorry," Harry rubbed his forehead. "I got held up."

"Is everything okay?" the archer went over and put his arms around him. "You seem a bit distracted."

"Clint," the raven took a deep breath, "are you spying on me for Fury?"

"Where did you hear that?" he frowned. Had he slipped up somewhere along the line?

"Just answer the question," Harry took a step back, out of the other's reach, his expression blank.

"What do you want me to say, Harry?"

"The truth would be a good place to start," green eyes narrowed dangerously as he took another step backward.

"Harry," Clint reached out, but Harry dodged him, "look, it's not what you think."

"Not what I think?!" his voice rose until it echoed around the cockpit. "I thought you were a decent bloke. But, apparently, I was wrong. I knew this would come back and bite me on the ass. So what? Did you go straight to Fury and tell me you could get all the information he could possibly want?"

"Harry, it's really not like that," the archer caught his arms.

"Don't touch me!" he yanked himself free and left the aircraft. "I can't believe after everything I said about not letting Fury know who I was, you went and told Fury!"

As they made it outside, the blond noticed most everyone was outside as well. He couldn't be sure if they had just come out on their own, or if they were drawn by Harry's raised voice.

"Harry, stop!" Clint grabbed his upper arms and held him in place. "Yes, I reported to Fury. Yes, he gave me a mission to find out more about you. Yes, I took it. Should I have? No. But I can't change any of that. But you have to know that I didn't want to do any of it."

"It is our choices that show what we truly are, Clint!" Harry snarled. "It doesn't matter what you wanted, it's what you did. You know what? You need to leave. Just get your things and go. I don't want to see you again."

With that being said, he wrenched himself free of the other's grip and turned on the spot, disappearing with a loud CRACK. Everyone stared at the archer in some confusion, not quite sure what had set the raven off.

"What's going on here?" Arthur asked, making his way to the front of the crowd.

"He found out, didn't he?" Natasha interjected, giving her best friend a sympathetic look.

"Yeah," he ran his hand through his hair. "Though I'm not sure how."

"It doesn't matter how he found out," the youngest Weasley scoffed. "You shouldn't have been spying on him in the first place. Now, I believe he told you to leave, which means you are not welcome here anymore."

"Ginevra Molly Weasley," her mother snapped.

"It was you," blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, ignoring the Weasley matriarch. "I should've known. You've been acting batshit crazy since the moment I met you. How'd you find out?"

"I've been suspicious of you since Harry introduced us at S.H.I.E.L.D.," she shook her head. "So I've been keeping an eye on you since you got here. I know you've been spying on him, and the fact that he paid you to be here and pretend to be his fiancé."

The rest of the Weasley clan took a collective breath at the accusations that were being thrown around.

"Look, Clint," Steve sighed, stepping between the pair with his arms extended, "I think it would be best if we just go."

"Well," Tony clapped his hands together as the only female of their team grabbed the archer's arm and began guiding him into the house to collect his things, "the captain has spoken. It was nice meeting you all. Maybe we could do this again sometime. But next time we should leave out the explosive relationship drama."

As he spoke, the remaining Avengers began making their way to the quinjet. The gathered family watched them go with mixed emotions. Most of them had enjoyed the company of the heroes, would even like to consider them friends, but all of them would stand by Harry, no matter what.

A few minutes later, the two assassins reappeared, each carrying a bag over their shoulders. They made their way silently through the crowd, which parted easily for them. They almost made it to the hatch when one of the group broke ranks and ran over.

"Don't go, Uncle Clint," Teddy cried as he latched onto the blond's leg. "Please. Uncle Harry didn't mean it."

"I'm sorry, kid," he squatted down so they were eye level. "Harry did mean it. And besides, the game's up now. Everyone knows that Harry and I aren't really together now. You don't have to call me Uncle Clint anymore."

"No!" the boy wailed, throwing his arms around Clint's neck. "I don't want you to go."

"Come on, Teddy," Ginny went over and pried him off the archer. "This man needs to leave now."

Teddy let out a choked sob and ran back to the waiting arms of his grandmother. Misty blue eyes watched him go before rising to lock with brown. A dark scowl marred his features as he rose to his full height.

"You are one sick little bitch, you know that?"

"How dare you," she sneered.

"No, how dare you," he countered. "I may have screwed things up with Harry, but you're messed up here," he tapped his head. "You need to get it through that thick skull of yours that he doesn't want you."

"He didn't want you, either," she shot back. "He was paying you to be here."

He let out a dark laugh at that, "You just proved my point, bitch. Harry would rather _pay_ a complete stranger to _pretend_ to be in a relationship with him, than be in _any_ form of relationship with _you_ for free."

With one last derisive snort, he turned on his heel and boarded the aircraft. Natasha gave her fellow redhead a dismissive look before following after him.

* * *

Ammie: So there it is. Harry knows about Clint's spying. What will happen now with are two star crossed lovers? As I said, we are getting to the end of the fic here, so let's see how it goes. Anyway, please let me know what you think.


	13. Chapter 13

Je N'ai Pas De Mots

By Ammie Hawk

Disclaimer: Nope, just nope…

AN: So, this chapter took on a life of its own, but I am happy with it. So, happy Thanksgiving (to all who celebrate it) Anyway, moving on.

Chapter 12

Harry woke the following morning in his godfather's former room at twelve Grimmauld Place. He hadn't really planned to go to the old townhouse when he left the Burrow, but he wasn't complaining. He had spent the rest of the previous day venting his frustration in the basement, both physically and magically, much to the dismay of his very ancient house elf, Kreacher.

He pulled himself out of bed and made his way down to the kitchen. He kind of regretted leaving the Burrow, as he would miss Molly's breakfast, but he couldn't stay around Ginny any longer, not to mention his own embarrassment. Looked like he was on his own.

He made himself a simple porridge and a cup of cocoa. As she sat there eating, he tried hard not to dwell on the events of the previous day, as it would only upset him all over again. So, instead, he thought about what he needed to do today. He should contact Fury and tell him to fuck off and quit, but he'd do that later, cause if he talked to the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. right now, he was liable to hex him. What he would do today was go and apologize to the remainder of the Weasleys, not only for lying to them, but the drama his actions had caused. Then he'd have to meet up with his cousin for lunch, but that wasn't anything too strenuous.

With that thought, he finished his meager breakfast and made his way upstairs to get dressed. Once he felt he could stall no further, he Apparated to the Burrow. He landed in Ron's bedroom, he wasn't a complete idiot after all and didn't want to risk running into the youngest Weasley if he didn't have to. Though, he was lucky to find his best mate in there, just finishing getting himself dressed.

"Harry!" the redhead nearly toppled over at his sudden appearance.

"Morning, Ron," he gave an awkward smile.

"What are you doing here?" Ron recovered. "We thought you'd gone back to D.C."

"No," he shook his head. "Couldn't bring myself to go back yet, so I ended up in Grimmauld Place. Anyway, is Ginny here? I need to talk to everyone, but I don't want to talk to her."

"No, mate, she's not," his friend chuckled wryly. "Dad sent her back to her apartment after you and Clint both left."

"Good," the bespectacled male sighed. "I mean, not good that she got sent away, good that she's not here right now. I really don't want to cause trouble for your family. Anyway, think we could get everyone together?"

"They should all be at breakfast," the redhead shrugged, taking no offense. "But Bill and Fleur are supposed to be leaving for France soon."

"Alright, let's get this over with."

"Hold up," Ron caught his arm as he headed to the door. "Are you okay, mate? I mean, with everything that's happened."

"I don't know," Harry took a deep breath. "A lot has happened, and I need some time, mate? I mean, with everything that's happened."

"I don't know," Harry took a deep breath. "A lot has happened, and I need some time. But I'm sure I'll manage. I always do after all."

"If you say so," brown eyes regarded him skeptically. "Just know that Mione and I are here if ever you need us. Mione's even offered to curse his balls off for you, or punch him in the nose, whichever suits her fancy at the moment."

"That's not necessary," the raven chuckled. "Though the sentiment is nice."

The pair then made their way down the stairs to the kitchen. As Ron predicted, everyone else was gathered in the kitchen, though not all of them were eating.

"Harry!" the Weasley matriarch was the first to spot them.

She shuffled away from the sink where she had been overseeing the washing of the dishes, and enveloped him in her arms. All the others watched with slight wariness, not sure how to approach the raven at the moment.

"How are you doing, dear?" she pulled back slightly, but kept her hands on his arms.

"I'll be alright," he flashed a weak smile. "But that's not why I'm here. I want to apologize, to all of you," green eyes flicked around the assembled group. "I lied to all of you, and brought a complete stranger into your house, and for that I am sorry."

"You don't owe us anything, Harry," Arthur stepped forward and placed his hand on his shoulder. "In fact, we owe you an apology."

"No, you don't," he shook his head.

"Yes, we do," the Weasley patriarch insisted. "We had not realized until you brought Clint here how bad Ginny's obsession of you had become. We should have noticed sooner and it should never have come to this. We think of you as one of our own and only want you to be happy. That's all we've ever wanted."

"Yeah," Fred grinned at him. "That's all we've ever wanted, Harrykins."

"Even if it's not with one of us," George waved his arms to encompass everyone.

"Or even that hot piece of man mean you brought over," his twin continued.

"Your happiness is more important than any of that," George concluded, gaining agreement from the others.

"Thank you, all of you," he gave them a genuine smile. "I really do appreciate everything you've done for me over the years. But I, uh, also came to get my stuff."

"You don't have to leave, Harry," Molly protested.

"I need some time on my own," he shrugged. "I need to sort through some things. I'll let you know when I get back to D.C. in a week, though I don't know if I'll be able to continue on at S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Whatever you decide, Harry," Arthur slipped his arm around his wife's waist and gently eased her away from their pseudo son, "just know that our door is open, no matter what."

"I know," he nodded. "And I really do appreciate it. But for now, I really should be going."

He knew it wouldn't be that easy to get away, as all the Weasleys came over to give him a hug. He finally managed to extricate himself from the group, and headed toward the stairs. He gained Percy's old room and began throwing his things in his bag. Even though they hadn't been there long, there were just too many memories of his time with Clint.

He shook his head, he was not going to think about that now. So, he snatched up his bag and Apparated out. He landed in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place and tossed his bag onto the bed. He'd unpack later.

With that thought, he made his way down to the library, where he had a nice fully stocked liquor cabinet. As he descended the stairs, he pulled his watch out of his pocket and looked at the time. Damn it! If he was going to drive, which he usually tried to do when on his own, he had to leave if he was going to be on time for his lunch with Dudley.

He gave a soft growl of frustration. He wasn't really in the mood to deal with his cousin right now, but it had been a tradition between them since they were eighteen. Both of them had agreed at that time that they would meet at least once a year, unless there was an emergency. And considering this wasn't technically an emergency, he wasn't going to be the one to call it off.

On that note, he summoned his keys and made his way out back, where he kept Sirius' old motorcycle. He pulled it out and put on the helmet before speeding off toward the restaurant. As he pulled up in front of their chosen spot, he noticed his cousin waiting for him by the entrance. He parked and removed his helmet and then went over to join the larger male.

"Hi, Dudley," he greeted.

"Harry!" the blond grinned as he pulled him into a hug. "Rachel sends her apologies, but Lacey's down with the flu."

"You didn't have to come, Duds," he frowned. "We could've done this another time."

"Don't be dense, Harry," his cousin shook his head and began leading the other into the restaurant. "Rachel and Lacy didn't have to be here for us to meet. So, let's get something to eat, and we'll catch up."

The bespectacled man couldn't come up with a solid argument against that, so he had no real choice but to follow. They found a table in the back, which was fairly secluded and they felt they could talk freely without being overheard, and took a seat. It didn't take long for a waitress to come and take their order.

"So," Harry said, once their drinks had arrived, "how've you been, Dudley?"

"Been good," he nodded taking a drink. "Rachel and I just sold our third game. And we're screening preschools for Lacey. Well, I say we, but it's all really, I just kinda smile and nod."

"You know," the raven chuckled, "I can't say I ever saw you as the domestic type. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you. But seriously, growing up I never would've predicted this for you."

"I know, right?" Dudley couldn't help but laugh as well. "I was on a fast track for jail at that point. No, I actually have you to thank for all this, you know that though. Well, you and that dementoid."

"Dementor," he corrected. "But you know, it was you too. You could've blamed me for everything and become worse."

"Yeah, well," the blond shrugged as their food arrived. "Anyway, enough about me. How've you been? How are things going at S.H.I.E.L.D.? You wanna talk about not seeing something coming, it was that. I always thought you'd disappear into that… _other_ world."

"Yeah, well," Harry scoffed, "that life wasn't for me. And I'm actually thinking that S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't either."

"Why?" his cousin scowled. "I thought you liked it there?"

"I do," the raven sighed. "I mean, I did. It's a really long story, but I found out Fury's spying on me."

"Why would he do that?" Dudley's expression turned confused. "How would he do that? I mean, you're one of the most paranoid people I know, next to my parents of course."

"As I said, it's a long story," he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, he really didn't want to talk about it.

"Harry, we've honestly got as much time as we need," the blond chuckled. "Rachel's not expecting me back any time soon. So unless you've got somewhere to be, this is obviously bothering you, so why don't you tell me about it."

"I'd really rather not," he shook his head.

"Come on, Harry," blue eyes leveled him with a look. "Don't make me come over there and make you."

"Fine," the bespectacled male gave in with a slight huff. "It all started about a week and a half, two weeks ago, when Ginny showed up at my work."

"Wait, Ginny?" Dudley frowned. "Your stalker, Ginny?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that, but yes," he nodded. "Anyway, I wanted to get her off my back once and for all, and I kinda panicked and grabbed the first guy I saw and introduced him as my fiancé."

"Bet that played out well," his cousin snorted.

"Actually, he played along great," Harry gave a weak smile. "But that should've been the end of it."

"Obviously not," the other prodded. "Otherwise, your idea of a long story is rather skewed."

"You're right," he agreed. "Ginny went and told her mother, who then invited my 'fiancé' to Christmas. So, to keep up the ruse, I found him again and offered to pay him to come with me on my vacation."

"Damn, that's pretty desperate, Harry," the blond gave a low whistle. "But I don't see how any of this has anything to do with Fury spying on you."

"Right," Harry shook his head. "Apparently when I found Clint again, he was in a section of S.H.I.E.L.D. I should not have had access to as an accountant. Which brought me to the attention of the Avengers and Fury."

"The Avengers?" he scowled in thought. "Why would the Avengers…? Wait, Cli… You got Hawkeye to pretend to be your fiancé?"

"Am I just a complete idiot, or does everyone know that?" he threw his hands up.

"Apparently," Dudley chuckled. "I mean, anyone who follows the Avengers would know. But then again, you never really did follow current events. Anyway, you were saying."

"Right," he took a deep breath. "Anyway, he agreed, but apparently, Fury gave him a mission to find out everything he could about me. And he fucking took it. And now, I have to find another fucking job."

"That sucks," the blond shook his head. "It really does. But from your reaction, I take it that this pretend romance got a little bit real?"

"I don't even know," he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I mean, how can I trust anything he said or did? I mean, for all I know he could've been using whatever means necessary to make me lower my guard and get the information he needed."

"I get that," his cousin pursed his lips in thought. "But you're not entirely blameless in this either, Harry."

"What do you mean by that?" green eyes narrowed indignantly.

"Hear me out," he held up his hands in supplication. "Yes, he spied on you, but you paid him to come with you on this trip. You treated him no better than a common whore. For all he knew, everything you did, one way or another, was you getting your money's worth."

"But that's not how I meant it," he shook his head.

"It doesn't matter what you meant, it's what you did," Dudley shrugged. "But honestly, Harry, all that aside, you need to stand up for yourself. You have always run away. No, I know," he held up his hands to cut the other off, "you defeated Moldyshorts when you were seventeen, saved the world. But aside from that, you've always run away. You ran away from me, my parents, you're running away from your stalker ex-girlfriend, and now you're going to run away from a job you actually enjoy because things got a little tough. Grow a pair, Harry. Tell that crazy bitch to back the fuck off and that you're not interested. Don't be afraid to hurt her feelings because she obviously doesn't care about yours. And as for Fury, tell him to go to hell. You like your job and you're going to stay where you're at."

"Okay, can I talk now?" Harry chuckled wryly, and his cousin motioned for him to go ahead. "First of all, I don't run away from things. In fact, there are some things I didn't run away from that I probably should have. But, I will concede that you have a point. I have been scared of hurting Ginny. I do care for her, just not the way she wants me to. I've tried being subtle, in deference to her feelings, but maybe it is time for a more direct approach. And as for Fury, I've told him no before. And I do like my job and don't really want to give it up. He'll just have to live with it or not, that's on him."

"I'll hold you to that," Dudley gave him a stern look. "If I hear anything next year that even hints you didn't go through with either of those, I'll drag you out back and kick your ass, just like old times."

"And I'll let you, if I haven't done either of those things," he shook his head, and pushed slowly to his feet. "Anyway, I should probably be going. I kinda booked a flight back to D.C. tomorrow."

"Just one more thing before you go," the blond held up his hand. "About Hawkeye. I think you should talk to him."

"Dudley, I really don't…"

"Hear me out," he cut him off, "just talk to him. If nothing else, clear the air. Don't let it become a regret."

"When did you become so wise, Dudley?" he scoffed slightly.

"Oh, it's all Rachel," he grinned, placing a few notes on the table. "She's changed my life, and I'm better for it."

"Well, remind me to thank her the next time I see her," he couldn't help but smile as well, placing his own payment next to the other's.

"You do that," the blond slung his arm around his shoulders. "Till next time, cousin."

"Take care of yourself, Dudley," he turned and gave his cousin a quick hug before going to retrieve his bike.

It didn't take him long to get back to Grimmauld Place and store his bike out back once more. He made his way inside and up the stairs to his bedroom. He hadn't been lying when he told Dudley he had booked a flight for the next day. He had changed his original flight because he wanted to be home, in his own apartment for the remainder of his vacation, instead of alone in his godfather's gloomy old house.

Once inside the room, he grabbed his suitcase and dumped it on the bed. He needed to pack it properly if he wanted to fit everything in it for the return trip. As he began repacking his things, his hand landed on one of the ring boxes. His hand curled around the small box before using his thumb to flip it open. The inside was empty, but that didn't really surprise him as the ring was still resting on his finger. With a sigh, he pulled it off and placed it in its velvet cushion. There was no use pretending anymore.

As he set down the box into his luggage, he scanned the remaining objects in search of his twin. He quickly located it and pulled it over. With mildly trembling fingers, he lifted the lid. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and his shoulders slumped slightly as his eyes landed on the empty slot. Great, now he really had to talk to Clint.

* * *

Ammie: Okay, don't really have much to say here... Just a few more chapters to go though. The end is in sight. Anyway, please let me know what you think.


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